There and Back Again: A Girl's Tale
by KeepItSecret394
Summary: Elwen Greenlea is a young orphan trying to make it through life. When on her 20th birthday Gandalf the Grey offers her the chance for adventure, and perhaps the chance to find the family she thought she'd lost forever, she cannot refuse. But when she forms a bond with Thorin Oakenshield and company, will they accept her after she learns of her connection to their greatest foe?
1. Chapter 1 A Beginning, of Sorts

**Authors Note: Hello friends and countrymen, lend me your ears! My name is** **Líadan (Lee-din fyi) and this is my first Hobbit story. Thanks for reading! I just wanted to say hi and let you know I will be posting once a week, maybe more just depending. I haven't quite finished writing this, but I've got the majority of the story already finished. Also, some (most) of my stories are written to music. I suggest listening to the Hobbit movie soundtracks while reading this one. If I have any individual song recommendations, I'll leave them at the top of the chapter. From now on, my author notes will be found at the end of every chapter. Also, in case you were wondering, this story is LONG. I'm talking novel length, so there will be plenty to enjoy! Happy reading! Cheers- L**

Part 1

Chapter 1 **A Beginning, Of Sorts**

The shop windows were dark and dingy, as if the place had long been abandoned. A wooden sign swung and creaked in the chilly spring breeze and was adorned with a hand-painted tall, pointy blue hat along with odd rune like markings. The strangest thing about this sign was not the unknown writing, or that the hat almost looked like the kind a wandering wizard would wear. No, the most peculiar part was the fact that the sign seemed weather worn, as if it had been through an age worth of gales. The paint was faded, like the sun had sapped away its vibrancy.

That was impossible. Elwen Greenlea had lived in the same town for as long as she could remember and visited every bookstore in the area. She'd never laid eyes on this place before. It was as if it had been built and aged overnight, which was certainly enough to peak her curiosity. But it was the ancient and cracked leather-bound tomes in the dusty shop window that had her reaching for the old brass door handle. Elwen never could resist a good story or the promise of adventure.

Yet she hesitated on the threshold when she heard the door click, finding it unlocked. The small hairs on the back of her neck stood and her skin tingled as if some unknown force was running figurative fingers across her skin.

Lightning streaked across the dark grey sky and thunder boomed so loudly it shook the windows of the little shop. One hell of a storm was coming, and any second the sky was going to open up and drown her. _I guess I've got no choice now_ , she thought, and pushed the door open.

The shop was much larger than it looked from the outside. It was dim, lit by lamps bolted to the walls. The ceilings were high and the walls were painted a dark forest green, though they were barely visible due to all the books. Elwen's jaw dropped as she took it all in. There were mounds upon mounds and stacks upon stacks of books on shelves and tables and even random piles on the floor.

The wind and rain was howling like raging beasts and Elwen found herself wishing she'd worn a jacket. Her ragged, holey jeans and worn sweater weren't much protection from the cold that was settling in.

Out of the corner of her eye, Elwen thought she caught movement. She spun around, but the only things visible in the soft yellow light were books.

"Hello?" she called, inching forward slowly. "The door was unlocked and it's storming out, so I let myself in."

She kept talking more out of nervousness than the expectancy of someone talking back. She heard what sounded like books sliding to the ground somewhere deeper within the shop. _Screw the storm_ , she thought. _I'd rather be wet than scared to death_. But when she spun around to leave, Elwen found herself face to chest with a very tall someone.

Elwen screamed and the sky screamed with her as more thunder clapped and shook the earth.

She jumped back and eyed the stranger, who turned out to be a man. She crouched slightly and put her weight on her left foot, ready to spring into action. _Thank God for martial arts classes_. Though, upon inspection, she saw she likely wouldn't need to call upon her skills.

The man Elwen had nearly bumped into was actually a very tall, thin older gentleman. He had a long grey beard that hung down to the middle of his chest, bushy eyebrows, and a long hooked nose.

He didn't look familiar, not exactly, but Elwen had the strangest sensation that, somehow, she knew him. Or had known him at some point. She was fairly certain she'd never seen him before. And yet…

The man's blue eyes twinkled with just a hint of mischief and a friendly smile spread across his face.

"Hello, my dear," he said, his voice a pleasant rumble. Elwen blinked. The man shifted his eyes to the window, then back to her. "Don't tell me you were going out in this tempest?"

Elwen shook her head and finally found her voice. "I…well…I didn't know if I was, um, supposed to be in here so-"

"Nonsense!" interrupted the man. "Follow me, if you please. You look in need of something warm to drink."

Elwen wasn't quite sure why she did, indeed, follow a strange man in-were those robes? Yes, the man was wearing floor length, grey robes. She didn't know why she was following a man in long grey robes to the back of a mysterious bookstore, but she was. Somehow she knew he wouldn't cut her into tiny pieces and use her bits to make a wallet. She knew she could trust him. She just didn't know _why_.

He led her into a back office area furnished with a large wooden desk, two large armchairs, and matching side tables. A fire crackled in the fireplace, which gave the room a cozy feel and glow. He bid her to sit in the chair closest to the fire and insisted she wrap herself in a thick wool blanket he pulled from the top of his own chair.

"Tea?" he asked, not waiting for her answer before hitting the button on the electric kettle. "I do love these e-lec-tric contraptions! So convenient!"

The way he said the word 'electric,' enunciating every syllable, made it seem as though the concept was foreign to him. _How odd_ , she thought in passing.

"Do you take cream?" he asked.

She shook her head. Soon she was holding a steaming mug in her hand and the old man was settled in a chair with his own cup of tea.

"Are you always so chatty?" he joked and gave her a wink.

She blushed. "I'm sorry, how rude! Thank you for the tea and the blanket! I'm just, er-"

"No need to thank me, gracious!" he chuckled, a deep rumble in his chest. "Now, I believe introductions are in order. You may call me Mr. Grey. And what might I call you?"

"I'm Elwen," she said. It was the first thing she was able to say without a stutter. "Elwen Greenlea."

"What a pretty name," Grey remarked. "Do you know what it means?"

Elwen shook her head. "I doubt it means anything special."

Grey looked surprised at this. "Names often have meaning. Your given name, for instance, means Star Maiden."

Elwen's eyes grew wide. She'd always thought someone had just chosen a random name to give a girl with no family and that was the end of it.

"How do you know that?"

Mr. Grey smiled and replied, "Because I speak the language in which your name was born of. The same that is also written on my sign, as I'm sure you noticed. It is an old language, a forgotten one for the most part. I am not surprised that you were unaware."

He sounded almost sad about the fact that the language was nearly forgotten. It was as if he personally knew those who had once spoken it and they had been forgotten as well.

"Tell me, Ms. Greenlea," he said, "what brings you to The Blue Hat?"

Ah, so that was the meaning behind the sign. He'd chosen a rather antiquated way of advertisement.

"I saw the books in the window. I thought I'd been to every bookstore in the area, but I've never seen The Blue Hat before." She smiled at him. "Plus, today is my birthday so I thought maybe I'd treat myself. I love to read."

Mr. Grey was mid-drink when he heard the last of what she said and nearly spit his tea all over himself. After he managed to swallow, he said cheerfully, "Why, happy birthday Ms. Greenlea! And how old are you today?"

"Twenty," she replied a bit shyly, "and please, call me Elwen."

"Ah, yes," he said, lifting his cup back to his lips. "Suppose that means you're ready for all sorts of adventures, I'd wager."

It was true. In a way, Elwen felt a change happening, as if leaving behind her teenage years meant something more than just growing older.

"The only adventures I go on are thanks to the books I read." She spoke with some regret. "But someday I'll go on loads of them! I'm studying Archeology and History. It was the closest to being able to declare my major as 'Adventurer' as I could get."

Elwen worked a crap job at a diner and got aid which enabled her to go to school. She was basically broke all the time and could barely pay her rent, but she managed. It had been that way since she'd completed grade school. But it wouldn't be forever.

"What of your parents?" Grey asked. "How do they feel about adventures?"

"I don't have parents," she replied. "I'm an orphan. I grew up in a children's home. Moved out after I turned eighteen."

When she was younger, she'd hated having to explain her situation. The older she grew, however, less it stung until it was a very small thorn in her palm.

To his credit, Mr. Grey didn't look at her as if he were some sort of pitiful animal. She was grateful for that.

"So you've no family to speak of?" he asked kindly.

"If I do, I don't know who they are. I was found abandoned in a hospital parking lot with the words _Elwen Greenlea_ written in gold paint on the side of a basket. I was about three or so. Very cliché, I know."

Grey raised an eyebrow at this. "Yes, now that I think about it, Greenlea is quite an unusual name, isn't it?"

"I think there might have been more written on the basket, but it rained that night and the paint smeared."

She tried not to be angry about the fact she'd been given up. She didn't even mind so much that she'd grown up in the system. She'd turned out alright. It was the rain that bothered her. They'd left her on a cold, wet night as if she were nothing but a piece of garbage. She was so inconsequential that whoever had left her couldn't be bothered to find a dry spot.

"What would you say if I told you that I was looking for someone to share in an adventure?"

This caught Elwen's attention. _Where have I heard that before_? she wondered. "I suppose that would depend," she replied carefully. Grey's eyes sparkled.

"I am in need of someone to help in a quest that is going to take place somewhere far away."

"I don't understand," she said.

"I did not expect you to!" Mr. Grey laughed.

Thunder roared and rain pounded the ceiling. Grey's eyes grew serious. When he spoke again his voice took on a mythical quality, almost as if it echoed throughout the room. The shadows cast by the fire danced across the walls like fae around their hills. The atmosphere felt different; the world felt more alive somehow.

 _Magic_ , she realized. _This is magic_. It was as if she were remembering something she had long forgotten. Grey felt like that too, as if she'd lived another life that had been banished from her memory and he'd been a part of it.

"What I am asking is no simple task. You would face great peril and I cannot guarantee your safety. But you were not meant for this world, Elwen Greenlea. I think you know that. I can show you where you truly belong."

Elwen knew she should leave. Every brain cell she possessed was telling her this old coot was crazy and she needed to get the hell out of there. But her body wanted her to stay. Her very bones were crying out. Her feet were longing for the path home. Her heart knew this stranger as Friend.

 _Your magic awakens_ , a voice whispered. _Come home, Elwen, Star. Come home_.

"I need to go."

Elwen bolted for the door, not waiting to find out if the old man would follow. She weaved through the endless shelves, momentarily worried she wouldn't be able to find her way back to the entrance. She envisioned herself lost forever in a maze of books, doomed to become a specter that haunted unsuspecting travelers or some nonsense. The only thing she knew was that the walls were closing in and she could have sworn she heard what sounded like someone chanting.

She halted her mad dash for just a moment and strained to hear the words over the storm that still raged. The words were faint, as if they were crossing a great distance carried by the wind. That was completely impossible as she was inside where there _was_ no wind, but it was there all the same.

Once again she was hit by a strange feeling, a feeling very hard to describe. It wasn't déjà vu; she was still absolutely positive she'd never set foot inside the shop before today. It was almost like an overwhelming feeling of nostalgia. The voice, the language.

 _I've heard this before_ , she thought with sudden shock. _Remembering_. That's the word she couldn't quite find. She was _remembering_.

Elwen Greenlea was remembering something that should be impossible for her to remember. Images flowed through her mind like a stream; a woman with dark hair, fair skin, and sad eyes. A man with long silver hair and eyes almost the same color as the blade of a sword. _My eyes_ , she realized. _That man has my eyes_.

A clap of thunder pulled her from the river of memory and gave her the ability to move once more. She stopped short, however, due to finding herself standing in front of the very door she had entered not half an hour before. Elwen didn't waste time trying to puzzle out how it was exactly that she'd found the door and not realized it. She simply flung it open and raced head first into the rain.

* * *

The old man pulled out a long wooden pipe from inside the many folds of his robes and began to pack it. How interesting a girl young Elwen had turned out to be. A keen mind, he could sense, and an obvious thrill seeker. Yes, she would make a happy addition to the party. Quite an adventure it would be.

He lit his pipe and took a long drag. He exhaled with a sigh and amused himself by blowing ships through smoke rings. He had a strong feeling that Elwen Greenlea (so she was being called) was very much up for the task. The party would disagree with him, of course, just as they would when they found out he'd chosen a Halfling as their burglar. But she would prove her worth, shatter their doubts, and win their hearts, just as Bilbo Baggins would. Of that he had no doubt. The tiniest pebble could often create the most wide spreading ripples. He only needed the tiniest of pebbles to tip the scale in their favor.

She would be back. And soon, he hoped. He wasn't overly fond of this place, despite its delightful electric kettles and toasters. It was far too busy and far too noisy for his liking. He preferred the unspoiled and ancient forests of Fangorn and Lothlorien. He longed to ride the plains of the Riddermark and keep company with the folk of Rivendell. No, he did not prefer this age to his own, not one bit, and was quite eager to return home as soon as possible.

He had made sure to stay somewhat unaware of the events that would take place when Thorin Oakenshield set out to reclaim what was lost. The Lady had warned him about meddling too far into what has been and what would come to pass. She had given him one task; bring back the girl who was promised and set her on the path. Elwen would take care of the rest simply by becoming who she was meant to be.

And so the old wizened Wizard would not dip his toe too far into time, nor would he alter what was not his to change. He would trust the Lady. He would trust the girl. _And may we all be saved_.


	2. Chapter 2 The Company of Wizards

Chapter 2 **The Company of Wizards**

"Well look what the cat dragged in."

Jim was the last person Elwen wanted to see after running through a thunderstorm to get away from a crazy old man. She glared at him and shook herself in an attempt to be rid of the water clinging to her hair and clothes.

"You're dripping all over my clean floors!" he shouted.

Jim was the manager of the crap roach motel masquerading as a flat complex in which Elwen resided. He was a horrid squatty man with beetle black eyes, thinning hair, and what looked like a spare tire poking out the top of his pants.

"These floors haven't been mopped in ages," Elwen fired back. "God knows what all has been spilled and left to rot, so shut your pie hole!"

Jim sneered, showing his yellow, cracked teeth.

"I'd be careful of that mouth of yours if I were you. Don't forget, I've got keys to every door in this building, including yours."

Elwen advanced toward the portly fellow. Her confident stride caught him off guard and he stumbled a few paces.

"And I sleep with weapons that I'm not afraid to use. Don't _you_ forget _that_."

Elwen left a grumbling Jim in the lobby and made the trek up four flights of stairs to her place. She lived in a one-room flat with a bathroom and kitchen the size of a broom closet each and there was probably enough black mold to take out a small third-world country. It was temporary. That's what she told herself every time the tap didn't work or she found a family of mice living in her closet. It's only temporary.

She locked the door behind her and propped a chair against the knob, more out of habit than fear. She wasn't bluffing when she said she slept with weapons. She had a wooden bokken propped against her mattress and a knife beneath her pillow. Guys like Jim didn't frighten her; they were all bark and no bite. Or if they did bite, she usually bit harder. But there was no need to invite trouble, so she barricaded the door.

She peeled off her soaked clothes and chucked them into a dirty laundry pile. She took a quick scalding hot shower, but it wasn't enough to chase away the uneasiness that had settled into her bones like a chill. When she finished, Elwen located her favorite oversized sweater and fuzzy leggings and made her way to the couch.

She knew logically and rationally that she should write the old guy off as possibly criminally insane and forget all that had transpired. Pretend it never happened and get on with her life.

 _Is this the life you were meant to live?_

Elwen jerked to attention. The voice she heard hadn't come from her own mind. It sounded like the shop owner, almost as if he were sitting right next to her. She felt it again; the tingling sensation. Magic.

"Maybe I'm the crazy one," she muttered aloud to no one, or so she hoped.

Elwen shoved herself off the couch and went to the kitchen to make tea. She wasn't thirsty but the process of making it calmed her mind. But when she picked up the kettle in preparation to fill it, she was startled to find it felt heavier than normal.

She shook the kettle and was surprised further when she heard the sound of something heavy clanging around inside. Had she dropped something in there and forgotten? It was heavier than any fork or spoon she owned. She reached inside and gripped the object, feeling cool metal in her fingers. When she pulled her hand out and released the object from its prison, her eyes widened and she swore heartily.

Elwen held a very large chunk of iron shaped unmistakably like a key. Yet it wasn't like any key she'd ever seen before. It was much too large for any modern door and was inscribed with more strange runes that she didn't recognize. It was elegantly crafted, obviously done with care, and Elwen felt that it was created for some great purpose. _So why the hell is it in my tea kettle?!_

Elwen was starting to see a pattern forming. Like Mr. Grey and his bookshop, she was certain she'd never laid eyes on this key before. Every fiber of her being wanted to say it was coincidence, but she was far too clever to believe in coincidences. But why had the key been left in the first place? To unnerve her? _Why_? Who would leave her such an ancient item? And it _was_ ancient. She felt the age of it humming through her. She didn't know how, but she knew this was no ordinary key and it unlocked no ordinary door.

Elwen pulled on a clean pair of jeans and a jacket. She pocketed the key and left her flat, suddenly feeling very unsure as to whether or not she would be returning. She needed to find Mr. Grey, for she had a sneaking suspicion that when she found him, she would find the source of the sudden strangeness that had assaulted her life.

When she made it down to the lobby, Jim was still skulking about with a mop. He leered at her as she started toward the front doors.

"Where are you off to again? It's still raining out."

Instead of whirling around and telling the man to piss off like she normally would, Elwen smiled and strode toward the door.

"I'm going on an adventure."

* * *

The shop looked even more foreboding after dark, but this time Elwen did not hesitate at the door. She found it still unlocked, as she knew it would be, and stepped into the dim lamplight. She wiped her feet on the mat and shook the water off of her coat.

"I had a feeling you would be back." Mr. Grey materialized from the shadows of the stacks, a smile spreading across his long face. "I will admit, I was not expecting you until the morrow."

It seemed the old man had dispensed with all former attempts at normality as he was now holding onto a long wooden staff with a gnarled top.

"That's not your run-of-the-mill walking stick, I'd wager," Elwen said, producing the object from her pocket. "And this key isn't going to lead to a supply closet somewhere."

Mr. Grey gave her an approving look. "You catch on quickly." He sounded almost proud.

He turned and began journeying back toward the office where he'd offered her tea just a few hours before, not turning to see if she was following. Of course she was.

Grey motioned for her to sit when they walked into the office, but she preferred to stand by the fireplace. The heat from the fire unfroze her fingers and set her slightly more at ease.

She found herself gazing into the fire and at first they were ordinary flames, but soon they were jumping and taking the form of beating wings. A savage roar filled the room and shook the windows. She collapsed to her knees and covered her ears. The screams of pain and fear were almost too much for her to bear. The roaring and screaming and voices stricken with pain and fear grew louder, louder, louder…

The old man reached out and put a hand on one of her shaking shoulders. The shouts died slowly to whispers, then to nothing, and the flames were flickering once more.

"What did you see, Elwen Greenlea?" he asked slowly, curiously.

"Death," she whispered. "Fire and death." She looked up at him, not yet daring to stand. "Who are you? What's happening to me?"

He didn't answer immediately. He helped her off the hard stone of the hearth and led her toward an armchair. She sat without protest. Mr. Grey sat down in his own chair and leaned his staff against its arm.

"As you have gathered, I am no simple shopkeeper, this is not merely a walking stick, and that," he pointed to the key still clutched in her grip, "that is, indeed, no ordinary key."

Elwen felt as if the whole world were shattering. Suddenly feeling things like magic and finding mysterious keys in kitchen appliances? And having visions of terrible winged beasts destroying villages?!

"You are not mad, my dear," said the old man, as if he could hear her thoughts. "These things are happening to you because you do not belong here. You are being called back. My name is Gandalf the Grey, and I am here to take you home."

Elwen shook her head.

" _Take me home_? What does that even mean?!"

"I know that you are overwhelmed and all of this must seem very frightening. I'm afraid I cannot explain it all, because I do not know it all. But if you give me a chance, I will tell you what I can."

Elwen leaned forward in her chair, glaring at this Gandalf the Grey and weighing her options.

"If I decide to get up and walk away right now, would all of this stop?"

Gandalf eyes were full of pity. He slowly shook his head.

"I am afraid not, my dear," he said, sounding sincere. "The visons will continue and eventually your mind will fracture under the stress. Your consciousness is trying to stretch, but it does not belong here. You will scatter across time and space. Do you understand?"

Elwen nodded. She wasn't positive on the particulates but she understood enough to know that if she remained in the place she'd grown accustomed, it wouldn't be long until she was driven completely out of her mind. Literally. Anyone else would probably think she was already off her rocker. Why wasn't she screaming, crying, _something?_ Yet she just sat there, staring into the fire.

Perhaps it was because Elwen had never been the type to dissolve into hysterics. Most likely, however, her eerie calmness had to do with the fact that she knew everything this Gandalf the Grey had told her was true. Somewhere deep inside herself, Elwen felt like a match had been struck. A distant flickering flame of memory had begun to burn inside her mind and there would be no snuffing it out. There was no turning back. She had to know who she was and where she belonged.

"You're a Wizard," she said. It wasn't a question. "I don't know how I know that, but I do. You're from a time when there were such things."

Gandalf nodded sagely.

"And there are far more startling creatures than Wizards, let me assure you. There is a great deal you will need to know if you are to come with me. The choice is yours, of course."

Elwen snorted. "I don't actually have a choice though, do I? It's go with you and face great peril and what-have-you, or stay and 'fracture.' Seems pretty straight forward to me."

Gandalf's face turned grave as he leaned forward, pinning Elwen with eyes that looked as though they had seen many ages pass before them.

"Do not speak lightly of this matter. There are fates far worse than death, and you know nothing of the perils of which I speak. You may long for a fractured mind in the days to come."

Elwen remained silent as she pondered the Wizard's words. She knew nothing of where she was going or the journey ahead. _But he's right, I don't belong here_. She'd always known, in the darkest part of her mind, that she wasn't meant for a world such as this. She was a guest in someone else's home. She no longer wanted to be a bystander in someone else's adventure or simply the reader of stories. That wasn't the life she was meant for. It was time to start writing her own.

"It would be better to live a short, but full life there," she said quietly, "then to continue this half-life. I'm going with you. I can't live in shadows anymore. I need to know who I am and why I'm here."

Gandalf studied her with squinted eyes, searching for even a sliver of doubt. He would find none. She made up her mind and there would be no turning back. When he was satisfied of her sincerity and earnest, the old man sat back in his chair and pulled out his pipe.

"Then I will tell you all that I can in order to prepare you. As for your origins, I cannot say because I do not know. I have only my suspicions. However, there are those who I believe can point you in the right direction. Will that suffice for now?" Gandalf asked. Elwen nodded grudgingly. She would have to be satisfied with possibilities. "Splendid! Then this is what you need to know about your true home, which goes by the name of Middle-earth."

Elwen wasn't sure how many hours passed before Gandalf finally fell silent and the air around them was still and quiet. He had told her everything that would be useful- the rest she would have to learn from experience.

She was told bits and pieces about the many races that co-existed in the realm of Middle-earth. Great creatures like Skin-changers, Great Eagles, and the Kingdom's of Men such as Rohan and Gondor. There were the Hobbits in their Shire and Dwarves in their mountains and mines. But most importantly to Elwen were the Elves. Elves with their ageless bodies and magic. Rivendell, Lothlorien, and the Woodland Realm. They had eon's worth of knowledge, so if she were to find any leads as to who named her Star Maiden in the elvish tongue, they were her best shot. They might be able to tell her who she was and why she had been abandoned in a different age.

First, though, she must help a company of Dwarves in a quest in which Gandalf was reluctant to divulge too many details. He'd said it would be dangerous and she would possibly face the evil, putrid creatures that also roamed the lands. Though he wouldn't go into detail, he made sure she understood the risks.

By the time she spoke again, Elwen was sure it was almost dawn.

"So, do I need to go home and pack?"

Gandalf chuckled and replied, "That will not be necessary. You need not take anything with you, other than the key of course."

"Alright," she said, seeing no need to protest. "Then let's get this show on the road. Do I need to click my heels three times or something?"

Elwen's voice shook despite how hard she tried to keep it steady. She didn't want to be afraid, but how could she not be? She was getting ready to enter a place of fairytales…and nightmares.

Gandalf stood and raised his arms. He began to chant and her head started to swim and fill with voices and visions. Mountains and valleys, forests and streams. Singing and crying, screaming and laughing. Everything blurred together and she was suddenly afraid she would be sick.

Gandalf reached out with his staff and as the gnarled end gently grazed her forehead, the voices fell quiet, time stood still, and the entirety of her world was painted black.

 **Authors Note: I've decided to post the first five or so chapters this week. Figure I'll get to the good stuff to get folks interested, and then start posting weekly. It really just depends on the progress I make on parts 2 and 3. I'd like to have the entire thing completed and polished to avoid rushing a chapter in order to get it out on time. I hope the quality is up to snuff. I go through a fairly rigorous editing process in order to make my work as good as it can be.**

 **Thank you to my first two reviewers, Queen MariaTheresia and MissCallaLilly! Much obliged! And thanks to you who favorited and followed. I very much appreciate the interest in the story. It definitely gives me incentive to keep writing! Please drop a review if you're so inclined, it's very nice to hear from readers!**

 **Cheers and happy reading!**

 **Líadan**


	3. Chapter 3 The Company of Dwarves

Chapter 3 **The Company of Dwarves**

Elwen peeled open her eyes slowly. She sat up and the world spun as her eyes tried to focus. She was laying on soft, thick grass and leaves in the middle of what she assumed was a forest. There was a faint glow of light visible, but there was no way of knowing if the sun was coming or going due to the thick canopy. Did the sun even set in the west in Middle-earth?

Elwen stood on shaking limbs and tried to get her bearings. She found that she immediately felt a difference between this place and the world she'd come from. The air was clear and crisp and teeming with life. She felt as if she'd stepped out of a foul smog and was breathing clean air for the first time.

A twig snapped from somewhere behind her. She whirled around and was relieved to see Gandalf emerging from the shadows cast by the tallest of oak and pine. He had a large leather satchel slung over a shoulder and was carrying what looked like a pair of tall boots.

"I am glad to find you awake and well," he called in greeting, dropping the satchel and boots next to her. "You will need to dress quickly if you are to reach Bag End before the company arrives." The Wizard turned his back to give her privacy. "I guessed at your size, but I think these should do."

Elwen undid the buckles that held the satchel closed and peered inside. She gasped when she pulled a beautiful article of clothing hidden away in the darkness of the bag. She held up an emerald tunic made out of a material softer than any silk she'd ever felt, as well as a pair of practical brown breaches, a belt to synch the waste with leather pouch attached to it, and two hard leather arm bracers. She dressed quickly and sat to pull on the boots.

"Where'd you get these?" she asked, giving the left boot a final tug before standing up.

"From an Elf friend," Gandalf replied, turning around and smiling. "Yes, I think those suit you quite nicely, just as I thought. You're going to give everyone quite a shock!"

"Am I going to meet the Elves?" she asked.

"I imagine we will need their aid before all is said and done, yes," Gandalf replied a bit solemnly. "Though Thorin will resist me at every turn, I fear. He has no love for Elves."

"Who's Thorin and what's he got against Elves?" she asked, shouldering the pack as the pair strolled out of the forest and into the night.

The sun had indeed set but, despite the darkness, Elwen could tell the land before her was beautiful. The rolling hills of the Shire stretched out far and wide with houses and crops scattered here and there. She could see the road stretching out before her and she wondered where it would lead.

Gandalf ignored her question and pointed toward the road.

"Follow the path as it winds and you will wander upon Hobbiton, and in Hobbiton you should find Bag End with little difficulty. There will be a mark on the door; you will know it when you see it, I assure you."

Elwen looked up at the Wizard and raised an eyebrow. "You aren't coming with me?"

She felt slightly foolish for being nervous, but striking out all on her own in a foreign land? That seemed a little more than slightly insane.

"You will find yourself in good hands once you reach the home of Bilbo Baggins," he replied warmly. "I will be along shortly. I have the sneaking suspicion some of our party will manage to get themselves lost, and I must take up the task of finding them."

With that, Gandalf wished her luck and pointed in the direction she must head before he once again disappeared into the trees. He'd taken her clothes and she wondered what he was going to do with them. Elwen sighed and made her way toward the road. At least it was a delightful night for a walk.

The sky was clearer than she had ever seen it. There was no pollution or city lights standing guard between she and the stars. She became transfixed with the countless points of light that smattered the heavens like paint slung from an artist's brush. She felt as if they were calling to her, bidding her to recall the histories they had seen and people they had watched come and go. The stars had always commanded her attention, but here she was captivate and heard them sing her name where before they had only whispered.

"Are you alright, Miss?"

A voice actually of this world startled Elwen out of her revere. She had become so entranced that she hadn't realized her feet had stopped moving right in the middle of the road.

The voice came from a man-err, wait, a man? He had the face of a man, the height of a young child, and feet that were long and large and covered in hair. Ah, a Hobbit!

"I'm sorry," Elwen said as she did her best to avoid staring at the Hobbit's bare feet. She suspected that the skin on the bottom was so tough that Hobbit's had no need for shoes. _They must save tons of room in their closets_ , she thought. "I wonder if you could point me in the direction of the home of a Mr. Bilbo Baggins?"

The Hobbit looked incredibly surprised at her request and replied raptly. "Well of course I can! You go straight down this lane, cross over the stream, and there it is! Lovely green door and brass knob, you can't miss it! But, if you don't mind my askin'…" He eyed Elwen in a curious way. "What might an Elf be doing here in the Shire to visit Mr. Bilbo after dark? Or at all, for that matter!"

Elwen stammered, caught off guard by the little man's question.

"I'm not an Elf!" _At least I don't think so_.

"You're dressed like one," replied the Hobbit.

"How do you know?" she quipped. "Seen many Elves?" The Hobbit's blush was noticeable even in the dim light of the lamp he carried. "Besides, look at my ears."

Elwen had to bend so to give the small fellow a better look. He took a moment to examine her ears by lantern light, and the rest of her, before nodding, fully satisfied.

"My apologies, Miss," said the Hobbit, having the good manners to sound embarrassed. "Should have known you weren't no Elf. I hear tale they are tall, elegant creatures of much grace and beauty. No, no, you're no Elf."

Elwen scowled at the little man as she straightened. He bid her goodnight and went about his way. Elwen grumbled something about him being of no great beauty and grace either. While she may have never been accused of being tall, some might describe her as willowy at least. She kept in shape by practicing Martial Arts and had learned that her smallness could be used to her advantage. Who was that tiny creature to say she wasn't elegant? _Not elegant my eye_!

She continued the walk to Hobbiton with her mood unfortunately soured. She didn't know why she was disappointed; she hadn't been considered a great beauty in her old world so why would this one be any different? She'd always found herself quite plain, to be honest. Her shoulder length hair was usually a dark brown, wavy mess, and there was nothing noteworthy about her heart-shaped face. Well, except for her eyes. They were a strange, steely blue color, sometimes the silver of blade and coin. _Just like the man in my vision_. _Who is he?_ she wondered. _If I find him, will he be able to shed light on this mystery_?

Before Elwen could worry about chasing the ghosts of her past, she needed to concentrate on the task at hand. She would meet this Bilbo Baggins and find out what sort of quest Gandalf wanted her to be a part of. Hopefully along her journey, she would find the answers she was seeking.

After about half an hour of walking, Elwen finally found herself in Hobbiton and in front of a green door with a brass knob in the center. There was a mark, as the Wizard had promised, and now there was nothing left to do but knock.

It took the Hobbit only a moment to answer. He was also small like a child, but his eyes were bright and his hair curly and tawny. He was, of course, barefoot, and was wearing a lovely multi-colored patterned housecoat.

"Are you Bilbo Baggins?" Elwen asked after a moment of the man gazing at her, slack-jawed.

He stammered a moment but bowed politely when he finally gained command of himself and said, "Yes, yes, I am. At your service."

She followed suit and replied, "Elwen Greenlea at yours. Um, may I come in?"

Bilbo stood aside and let Elwen enter his home.

Gandalf had told her that Hobbits often lived in holes in the ground, and depending upon the wealth of the family, some of these holes could be quite luxurious. It was clear to Elwen immediately that Bilbo's family must have done very well for themselves indeed. He had a hole on the side of a hill full of coziness and comforts. She found herself very surprised and envious all at the same time, and was curious about the rest of the house.

"Um, I am very sorry," Bilbo started, "but I'm fairly certain I do not know any Elves and-"

"Oh, I'm not an Elf!" Elwen exclaimed, wishing Gandalf had given her different clothes. "At least, I don't think I am. Here, have a look at my ears!"

She once again bent down to let someone look at her ears in search of elongation and pointedness. She had a feeling it would not be the last time.

Bilbo nodded and let her straighten. "Well Miss Greenlea, I still do not know _you_ , yet you do seem to know _me_."

Elwen smiled and said, "I'm not entirely sure why I'm here either. Gandalf told me to meet him here and so here I am!"

"Gandalf!" Bilbo exclaimed, sounding very unhappy. "But I told him I wanted nothing to do with-"

What was sure to be a brilliant rant was interrupted by the sound of someone banging on the door. Bilbo looked at her, at the door, then back at her. She shrugged.

Bilbo opened the door with hesitation and soon the pair found themselves face to face with what Elwen could only assume was a Dwarf.

He was larger than the Hobbits she had met, which surprised her. In fact, he was only a few inches shorter than she! He had quite a lot of hair except for directly on the top of his head, where he sported a few tattoos that must have been very painful to acquire. He wore a large cloak over traveling clothes, leather armor, and he had a large axe strapped to his back. _Bloody hell_ , she thought.

The Dwarf grunted in a low, rough voice, "Dwalin, at your service," and bowed.

Flummoxed though he was, Bilbo did not let his good manners slip. He bowed in kind and replied, "Bilbo Baggins, at yours."

Without being invited inside, Dwalin let himself into the receiving room and took in his surroundings. His scowl deepened when his eyes found her.

"The Wizard made no mention of an Elf."

The way he spat out the last word gave Elwen the district impression that he didn't care for Elves much. _Maybe it's a Dwarf thing_.

"She isn't an Elf," Bilbo said quickly, also sensing the Dwarf's hostility.

Elwen pulled her hair back to offer her ears as proof for the third time that night. She vaguely wondered if she should tie her hair back to save time.

Dwalin eyed her still. "Then why does she wear Elven garb?"

"Gandalf gave them to me," Elwen replied coolie. "My clothes were-err-damaged during my travels."

"Where have you traveled from?" asked the Dwarf. Would nothing satisfy him?

"It's complicated."

Gandalf _really_ needed to hurry up.

Dwalin stared at her a moment longer before shrugging his broad, heavy shoulders.

"No matter to me."

"Excuse me but, d-do we know each other?" Bilbo stammered as the Dwarf made his way further into the home.

"No." Dwalin gave him a strange look. "Which way, laddie? Is it down here?"

Elwen and Bilbo both blinked back at the Dwarf. "I-is what down where?"

Dwalin shrugged off his traveling cloak and weapons, dropping them directly onto the floor.

"Supper," he replied. "He said there'd be food, and lots of it."

"He said?" Bilbo asked, surprised. "Who said?"

Dwalin ignored the question and set about trying to find his promised food. The next thing Elwen knew, she was standing in a nice, cozy kitchen watching a Dwarf devour what had surely been Bilbo's supper while the Hobbit looked on forlornly. She felt very sorry for Bilbo and was growing more and more offended on his behalf with every bite the Dwarf took.

"Elwen, are you hungry?" Bilbo asked with shocking politeness. She wanted to say no given the way Dwalin had demanded supper.

"I don't want to impose-"

"Nonsense! Come with me!"

Bilbo gripped her arm lightly and pulled her toward his pantry. Elwen's mouth fell open and promptly began watering upon entering the Hobbit's store of food.

Wheels of cheese, loaves of bread, jars of jam, and strings of sausage-anything she could possibly be hungry for was in this room. She hadn't realized how ravenous she was until Bilbo started stacking food onto a plate while he muttered things like, "At least _you're_ polite, Elwen! At least _you_ have manners! Do you like blackberry jam?" He handed her the plate and went to find her something to drink. He came back with a mug full of a dark red liquid that she assumed was some kind of wine.

Suddenly the chime of the door rang out shrilly. _Uh oh_ , Elwen thought, taking a sip from her glass. Bilbo was the one who probably needed the drink.

Elwen peaked around the corner and saw Bilbo open the door for yet another Dwarf. This one was shorter than Dwalin and had white hair that stuck out, and a long white beard. He smiled kindly and bowed.

"Balin," he said when he rose, "at your service."

"Good evening," Bilbo replied blankly.

"Yes, yes it is," Balin said, looking out into the night. He turned back to Bilbo and smiled again. "Though I think it might rain later. Am I late?"

"Late for what?" Bilbo was starting to look very confused and out of sorts.

Dwalin materialized from the kitchen and spied the older Dwarf who had just come in front outside and sat down the pack he carried on his back. Balin laughed a merry laugh upon seeing the larger Dwarf.

"Oh, ha ha! Evening brother!"

So they were brothers? Elwen supposed that made sense due to their similar names, though they looked nothing alike.

"Oh, by my beard!" Dwalin grinned. "You are shorter and wider than last we met."

"Wider, not shorter," Balin playfully chided. "Sharp enough for both of us."

The pair did something then that startled Elwen. The brothers gripped one another by the shoulders and slammed their foreheads together like a couple of fighting goats. Elwen watched with wide eyes, waiting for one of them to stumble, but they only laughed heartily.

"Have you eaten?" Dwalin asked and Elwen scampered back into the pantry and thought _Good God, what are these guys made of?_

The pair made their way to the pantry where Balin stopped short when he saw that someone already occupied the space.

"Oh my," said the old Dwarf, looking back and forth between his brother and Elwen. "Thorin won't like this. There was no mention of an-"

"She's not an elf," Dwalin and Bilbo said at the same time. Once again, Elwen made sure her ears were visible.

"But her clothes-"

"It's _complicated,_ apparently," Dwalin drawled as if he didn't believe a word of it.

Balin eventually shrugged and simply bowed. "Balin, at your service." The Dwarf raised an eyebrow when she introduced herself in kind but made no comment on her name. The brothers set about gathering food.

Finally Bilbo decided to speak up. "Um, excuse me; sorry, I hate to interrupt, ah, but the thing is I'm not entirely sure you're in the right house."

The Dwarves weren't paying any attention to the poor Hobbit.

"It's not that I don't like visitors," Bilbo tried again. "I…I like visitors as much as the next Hobbit, but I do like to know them before they come visiting."

"Ah, that looks very nice indeed," Balin said.

Dwalin grumbled and picked up a hunk of cheese. "What's this?"

"I don't know, not like any cheese I've ever seen before."

"The thing is, um-" Bilbo tried again.

"It's gone blue," said Balin.

"It's riddled with mold!" said Dwalin as he tossed the cheese out of the pantry and passed a still stammering Bilbo.

"The thing is, um, I- I don't know either of you. Not in the slightest. I don't mean to blunt but I had to speak my mind. I'm sorry." Bilbo said the last bit louder and a little more angrily, so it drew the Dwarves' attention.

"Hmm," Balin said as if he were really thinking about it. "Apology accepted."

Elwen had to hold back her giggles as Bilbo squeaked in surprise.

"Ah, now fill it up, brother, don't stint. I could eat again, if you insist!" Balin said. The Dwarves went about their business of gathering food when another knock sounded through the house.

Poor Bilbo looked as though he might faint as he went to his door for the fourth time that evening. Elwen rushed after him just in case he did indeed have a coronary.

When they flung open the door, Elwen had to bite back a sound of surprise. Standing outside Bag End were two young men-err, Dwarves-both handsome and almost eyelevel with her.

"Fili," said the fair haired one who had very interesting braids in his mustache.

"Kili," said the dark haired one, who she noticed sported only stubble on his handsome, rugged face. They bowed and said at the same time, "At your service."

When they rose, Kili grinned widely. "You must be Mr. Boggins!"

"Nope, you can't come in," Bilbo began to shut the door. "You've come to the wrong house."

Kili shouldered his way in. "What?! Has it been cancelled?"

"No one told us," Fili said dubiously.

"Can-? No, nothing's been cancelled-" Bilbo started.

"Well," Kili said as he and the other Dwarf, who was clearly his brother, pushed themselves into the house, "that's a relief."

Fili dumped his things in Bilbo's arms, including two swords that were shaped in a way Elwen had never seen before. The blades were thick and textured, and the tip was angled, no curves.

"Careful with these, I just had em' sharpened."

Fili then proceeded to unload himself of more weapons then Elwen had ever seen in her entire life, nevertheless on one person. _Where does he put them all!?_

"It's nice, this place," Kili said. "Did you do it yourself?" He began to attempt to scrape off bits of mud from his boots on a chest that was sitting nearby.

"Ah, no, it's been in the family for years," Bilbo said. His eyes went wide upon seeing what the dark haired Dwarf was doing to his piece of furniture. "That's my mother's glory box! Can you please not do that?!"

"Seriously, this is his house! You don't wipe mud on your host's furniture!" Elwen shouted, unable to stay quiet another moment. This drew the attention of the two young Dwarves who both looked at her with wide, shocked eyes.

"She is NOT an Elf!" Bilbo, Dwalin, and Balin all spoke before she could say anything.

To their credit, the young men (could you call Dwarves _men_? Was that offensive? Oh dear…) took her appearance in stride and didn't so much as glance at her ears.

"Well, this gathering just became much finer looking, I'll say," Fili said with a roguish smile.

"And here I thought I was gonna' have to look at your ugly mug all night, Mister Dwalin." Kili winked at her and embraced the larger Dwarf.

"Thorin still isn't gonna' like this," Dwalin muttered.

"Can't be helped, lad," Balin said with a sigh. "Now gives us a hand."

The four Dwarves present began bringing food out from the pantry and setting up more chairs. "Let's shove this in the hallway, otherwise we'll never get everyone in."

"Ev-everyone? How many more are there?" Bilbo stammered and Elwen had to admit that she too was becoming quite alarmed.

Then came another knock. _Bloody hell_ , Elwen thought, and followed Bilbo.

"Oh no. No, no! There's nobody home," Bilbo shouted as he stamped toward the door. "Go away and bother somebody else. There's far too many Dwarves in my dining room as it is. If-if this is some clotterd's idea of a joke, ha ha, I can only say it is in very poor taste!"

Bilbo jerked open the door and a literal pile of Dwarves, eight to be exact, spilled into the room as if someone had dumped over a large mug of hairy water. Gandalf was hovering over them like a large bird of prey, shaking his head, his blue eyes dancing.

"Gandalf!" Elwen shouted over the din of voices yelling back and forth and heavy armor and traveling bags being dropped to the floor. Unfortunately, this drew the attention of not only the Wizard, but of the eight Dwarves all standing in Bilbo's entryway.

A Dwarf with an incredible amount of girth the shape of a doughnut face began growing as red as his strangely shaped beard.

"She's not an Elf," Fili assured them as he embraced several of the newcomers.

"Just a pretty girl!" Kili added cheerfully.

"What's this pretty young lass doing here with us lot, then?" asked one of the Dwarves.

"All will be revealed in good time, Master Bofur," Gandalf replied in his mysterious way.

Chaos was beginning to erupt in the kitchen as the newly arrived troop set about the business of plundering Bilbo's pantry while the Hobbit ran behind them shouting things like, "Those are my plates! Excuse me! Not my wine. Put that back. _Put that back_! Not the jam, please! Excuse me!"

Elwen snatched her plate off the table that had begun to overflow with food for the hungry company. Twelve Dwarves had now invaded poor Bilbo's home and God forgive her, but she couldn't help but snicker at how lost he seemed.

One of the funniest interactions was between Bilbo and two Dwarves, one named Bifur (Bifur had what looked like a bit of an ax lodged in his forehead) and another named Oin, who had a large brass trumpet stuck to his ear due to bad hearing. Bilbo was attempting to wrestle a bottle of wine away from Bifur, who kept nattering on in a language Bilbo had clearly never heard before. Oin tried to explain that Bifur had an injury that made him incapable of speaking anything other than Khuzdul, the Dwarven language.

"You mean the axe in his head," Bilbo replied a bit sarcastically.

Oin put his hearing aid to his ear and shouted, "Dead? No, only between his ears. His legs work fine."

Just then the rather large red bearded Dwarf Bombur walked out of the pantry carrying three whole wheels of cheese.

"Excuse me. A tad excessive isn't it?" Bilbo asked scathingly. "Have you got a cheese knife?"

"Cheese knife?" Bofur laughed. "He eats it by the block."

Oin and Gloin walked through the hallway carrying chairs they'd found in another one of Bilbo's many rooms.

"No no, that's Grandpa Mungo's chair! No, I'm sorry, you'll have to take it back please. Take it back! It's antique, not for sitting on! Thank you! That's a book, not a coaster!"

"I cannot hear what you're saying!" Oin shouted.

Yes, Elwen felt very sorry for Bilbo, but she couldn't help but wonder what on earth Gandalf wanted this little worrywart for as far as their task at hand. He seemed much too fond of his things, his home, his comfortable life. Surely he wasn't one for adventure.

Yet, she could understand him being protective of things like his mother's glory box. These antiques were his memories. They were his history. Each had seemed to come from a family member the Hobbit had cared a great deal for and wanted to preserve the memory of for as long as possible. She couldn't fault him for that. She only wished she had something that tied her to her own family's history. She might never own anything that once belonged to her parents, nevertheless a great aunt twice removed and so on. She might never find out who her parents were at all. And so she found something noble about Bilbo, the Great Preserver. She was sure that he was more than what he seemed.

Elwen stood next to Gandalf and they watched the whole spectacle unfold before them. She gave the Wizard a look from the corner of her eye and the tall man (so tall, in fact, that he had to hunch over in order to fit in Bilbo's Hobbit hole) simply shrugged his shoulders and accepted a tiny glass of red wine from a silver bearded, friendly faced Dwarf name Dori. When he finished the glass in one small gulp he looked at its emptiness forlornly, no doubt wishing for a larger cup.

Bilbo wrestled a bowl of tomatoes away from a Dwarf named Nori. Elwen shook her head. Bifur made his way over to Gandalf and began to speak to him in Khuzdul while also performing a bit of bizarre Sign Language.

"Yes, you're quite right Bifur," Gandalf nodded, having understood the Dwarf to Elwen's amazement. "We appear to be one Dwarf short."

"He is late, is all," said Dwalin. "He travelled north to a meeting of our kin. He will come."

Finally the Dwarves settled into Bilbo's dining room and began their grand feast. They were quite messy eaters, much to Bilbo's dismay. Elwen found that she didn't mind so much. She liked watching them all together, interacting like one big huge family. Everyone seemed so at ease (with the acceptation of one Mr. Bilbo Baggins) and comfortable with one another. She had no close friendships to speak of back where she came from.

 _Strange_ , she thought, _that I don't even think about that place as home anymore. I have no home._

"Bombur!" Bofur shouted. "Catch!" Bofur threw an egg and Bombur caught it in his mouth with expert ease, causing the whole company, including Elwen, to throw back their heads and laugh. Everyone except Bilbo, that is, who looked on in disgust.

When the meal finally finished, some of the Dwarves got up and started walking about the house, nearly sending Bilbo into fits. The Hobbit snatched something out of the hands of Nori and shouts, "Excuse me that is a doily, not a dishcloth!"

"But it's full of holes!" exclaimed Bofur.

"It's supposed to look like that, its crochet."

"Oh, and a wonderful game it is too," Bofur said, then smirked. "If you have the balls for it."

Elwen snickered at Bilbo's red face. The Hobbit stamped into an empty hallway with Gandalf and Elwen close behind.

"Bebother and confusticate these Dwarves!" Bilbo looked as if he wanted to scream something loud and rude, but made do with a more polite tirade.

"My dear Bilbo, what on earth is the matter?" Gandalf asked, sounding jolly.

"What's the matter!?" Bilbo replied with barely concealed rage. "I'm surrounded by Dwarves. What are they doing here?"

"Oh, they're quite a merry gathering, once you get used to them."

Nori walked past the doorway with a chain of sausages slung over his shoulder. Bofur made a grab for them and they both begin a pork themed tug-of-war.

"I don't want to get used to them," Bilbo seethed. "The state of my kitchen! There's mud trod into the carpet, they've pi-pillaged the pantry. I'm not even going to tell you what they've' done in the bathroom!" he said this last bit after giving Elwen a sorrowful look, as if it were too delicate for her ladylike ears. She scoffed. "They've all but destroyed the plumbing. I don't understand what they're doing in my house!"

Gandalf opened his mouth as if to give Bilbo a real answer but they were quickly interrupted by a sparsely bearded, soft spoken fellow named Ori.

"Excuse me," he said, "I'm sorry to interrupt, but what should I do with my plate?"

Bilbo was about to answer when Fili walked into the room and said, "Here you go Ori, give it to me."

Fili took the plate and threw it into the space Kili had just filled in the hallway as well. Kili caught it easily and tossed it into the kitchen. Elwen scampered to see who had caught it and saw Bifur standing at the ready in front of the sink. He caught a few more flying plates behind his back without even needing to look! Elwen stood, her mouth agape, and watched as all of the Dwarves started tossing their dirty dishes around in a circus like display of expert juggling!

"That's my mother's West Farthing crockery! It's over a hundred years old!" Bilbo shouted, but the Dwarves paid him no mind. He was so flustered he didn't notice how incredible their skill was. Elwen knew they may seem rude, but there was no way they were going to let any of Bilbo's dishes be harmed.

The dwarves at the table started drumming on it with their utensils and fists, beating out a fun little tune.

"Can you not do that?" Bilbo asked exasperatedly. "You'll blunt them!"

Bofur turned to the other Dwarves and flashed a mischievous grin.

"Oh, d'hear that lads? He says we'll blunt the knives!"

" _Blunt the knives, bend the forks,_ " Kili began to sing.

" _Smash the bottles and burn the corks,_ " Fili replied, juggling a bowl with his shoulders and elbows.

" _Chip the glasses and crack the plates/that's what Bilbo Baggins hates!_ "

Soon the entire company was singing along and Elwen took cover in a corner as dishes and crockery, knives and forks went sailing through the air and were caught, all with expert precision. The song was catchy and even more fun when a few flutes were retrieved from bags and brought into the mix. She stomped along to the rhythm and laughed with the rest when the song was done.

 _Cut the cloth/trail the fat/Leave the bones on the bedroom mat/Pour the milk on the pantry floor/Splash the wine on every door/Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl/Pound them up with a thumping pole/When you've finished, if they are whole/Send them down the hall to roll/That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!_

Bilbo huffed in anger but when he turned, his mouth fell open when he saw all of his dishes stacked neatly and cleanly in the sink. Everyone had another good, hearty laugh, Kili pointing and saying, "Look at his face!" Elwen patted Bilbo on the back and gave him an encouraging smile, which he returned, all be it a bit begrudgingly.

The sound of three loud raps on the door cut through their laughter like a hot knife to butter, and everyone fell silent.

Gandalf looked toward the door and said lowly, "He is here."

 _But who_?

 **Authors Note: Hello there! Another day, another chapter. Elwen has met most of the gang and we're going to start seeing how she fits in with this motley crew! I'm very excited for you to read this chapter as well as chapter 4. It starts getting interesting when she and Thorin go head to head!**

 **I think I'll post up to chapter 4, and then hold off for a week or so. I have Part 1 completed and am working on Part 2 as we speak!**

 **Thanks again to Queen MariaTheresia and MissCallaLilly for their reviews, and also to Tibblets. Hope you continue to support the story and enjoy what you read!**


	4. Chapter 4 The Company of Thorin

Chapter 4 **The Company of Thorin Oakenshield**

Twelve Dwarves, one Hobbit, one Wizard, and one girl were packed like rats in the round tunnel-like entryway of Bag End, all staring as Gandalf opened the door to let in an apparently very important guest.

Elwen was nervous. She'd heard Thorin's name mentioned enough to guess he was some kind of inspirational figurehead to the Dwarves, some kind of leader, but she had no other knowledge of the fellow other than the fact that he did _not_ care for Elves, and likely wouldn't care for her either. She doubted very much that he was going to be thrilled to find her there and she felt herself already going on the offensive.

 _Well, he doesn't have to like it_ , she thought. _He may be important to these folk, but he's nothing to me. I'm going with them, whether he likes it or not!_

Gandalf opened the door and greeted the latecomer with a smile.

"Gandalf," a deep, gruff voice called from the doorway.

The Dwarf stepped inside and from her vantage point, Elwen could barely get a glimpse of him. He was taller than all of the other Dwarves she'd met up to that point, very close to her height in fact, and he had long black hair set with a few braids. No matter how she angled herself, she couldn't quite see his face.

He pulled off his traveling cloak and said, "I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way. Twice. Wouldn't have found it at all had it not been for the mark on the door."

 _He must be crap with directions, then, as I found it easily enough_ , Elwen thought cheekily.

"Mark?" Bilbo asked, elbowing himself out of the crowd and in front of his new guest. "There's no mark on that door. It was painted a week ago!"

"There _is_ a mark," Gandalf said sheepishly. "I put it there myself. Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield."

Thorin turned slightly toward Bilbo Elwen could finally make out his side profile. He had a handsome face, from what she could tell, with a long nose and shortly trimmed dark beard. He looked rather young but she noticed streaks of grey beginning to appear in his long locks. Curious, very curious.

"So, this is the Hobbit!" Thorin said pleasantly enough, taking in Bilbo's appearance as he handed a traveling cloak to an awaiting Kili. "Tell me, Mr. Baggins, have you done much fighting?"

"Pardon me?" Bilbo blanched.

"Axe or sword? What's your weapon of choice?"

"Well," Bilbo replied, sounding quite proud, "I have some skill at Conckers, if you must know, but I fail to see why that's relevant."

"Thought as much," Thorin replied, the pleasantness of his voice almost turning to sneering. "He looks more like a grocer than a burglar."

Who the hell did this guy think he was? Elwen knew she should probably keep her mouth shut and stay in the background until Gandalf introduced her, but as the crowd thinned and they attempted to lead Thorin into the kitchen to eat the food of the person he'd just insulted, she couldn't help herself. She really couldn't.

"Where I come from, it is bad manners to insult a man in his own home," Elwen said with a sneer of her own.

She leaned casually against a pillar, arms crossed, trying her best not to seem nervous. But when Thorin Oakenshield whirled around and their eyes met for the first time, it was all she could do not to let her jaw drop.

Thorin wasn't just handsome, he was _gorgeous_. It wasn't just the ruggedness of his face or the way he held himself, but his eyes were like two beautiful polished blue sapphires, and they were now narrowed on her and filled with pure unadulterated rage.

 _Oh. Oh shit._

She straightened up a little, hoping she wouldn't need to attempt to defend herself. He also looked strong enough to take down an ox!

"What is the meaning of this?" Thorin hissed, advancing toward her. She summoned up all her courage and lifted her chin, giving him her best 'come at me bro' face.

"SHE'S NOT AN ELF!" A chorus of Dwarves, Hobbit, and Wizard resounded through Bag End.

"Show him your ears!" shouted Oin, holding the trumpet to his own as if he were expecting a reply.

Elwen felt her lips curl back in a snarl but she made no motion toward her hair. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing the roundness of her ears. They stared each other down, nearly eye to eye. She'd always been the short, small girl in school, but here in Bag End the only person who towered over her was Gandalf. She found that she had a good half inch on the pompous Oakenshield and she greatly enjoyed being able to look down her nose at him, even just a little.

"I assure you, Thorin, that as far as Elwen and I know, she is _not_ an Elf," Gandalf said, but then paused. Thorin's eyes went wide upon hearing her name. "Then again, I could be wrong. So I do _not_ assure you, not exactly."

"You brought a strange girl to our meeting and you do not even know her origins!" Thorin's face hardened, his fury now directed at the aged Wizard.

"Who do you think you're calling _strange_ , shrimp?" Elwen cried indignantly.

 _I hope Gandalf turns him into a frog_.

Thorin pointedly ignored her, his eyes never leaving Gandalf. The Wizard in question peered down at Thorin shrewdly.

"If I say she is trustworthy, then she is trustworthy. You've no reason to question me!"

Thorin didn't like this answer, Elwen could tell, but after a long pause she saw that he also truly had no reason to question Gandalf or his motives.

"Come on, lad," Balin said calmly. "There's food in the kitchen." The older Dwarf tried steering Thorin away from a still scowling Elwen and Gandalf. "I'm sure Master Gandalf will explain Miss Elwen's presence to us all soon enough."

Thorin gave her a final withering glare before stomping toward his promised food. As soon as the Dwarf was out of her sight, Elwen whirled on the Wizard.

"I am not going anywhere with that-that-," Elwen pointed toward the kitchen, so angry she was sputtering like a cat that had just been dropped in a bath, "that arrogant, pompous, ill-mannered twat!"

She didn't care if Thorin and company or even the whole Shire could hear her. Let the world know that Thorin Oakenshield was a huge sodding twat!

 _Who the hell does he think he is?_ she seethed for the second time that night. The way he'd shoved his traveling cloak at Kili, looked down on Bilbo, and had yet been treated so reverently. Did he think he was some kind of royalty? He certainly acted enough like some snobbish prince. Well, Elwen didn't give a damn. She was the last person he was going to intimidate and she would be sure to let him know.

"Now, now," said Gandalf in his most soothing, low voice. "Thorin may be a bit rough around the edges, yes, but he's had a difficult life as you'll come to find. Give him a chance."

Elwen snorted. "Not likely. You heard him, he isn't exactly keen on giving me a chance either! For all we know I _could_ be an Elf, just one with some strange ear deformity!"

Gandalf chuckled and steered her into the kitchen. She stood off to the side with her arms crossed, glaring at Thorin as he dared eat Bilbo's food. _Wanker_.

"What news from the meeting in Ered Luin?" Balin asked. "Did they all come?"

Thorin eyed Elwen suspiciously. She threw her hands up and shouted, "I don't even know what an Ered Luin is, for goodness sake!"

His eyes narrowed but he eventually replied, "Aye, envoys from all seven kingdoms."

The Dwarves seemed joyful.

"What do the Dwarves of the Iron Hills say?" Dwalin asked eagerly. "Is Dain with us?"

Thorin was silent for a moment before murmuring sadly, "They will not come." Faces fell and shoulders slumped. "They say this quest is ours, and ours alone."

Elwen felt a little of her anger ebb. Thorin's voice had turned from rock and stone to the lonely sound of wind on a prairie. Whatever journey they were going on, these Dwarves would not find much aid.

"You're going on a quest?" Bilbo asked.

Elwen patted his shoulder. Poor little guy still hadn't figured it out.

"Bilboo, my dear fellow," Gandalf said, trying to distract him, "let us have a little more light."

Bilbo brought over a candle and Gandalf produced an old, worn yellowed map from his robes and spread it across the table.

"Far to the East, over ranges and rivers, beyond woodlands and wastelands, lies a single solitary peak," Gandalf said with a flare of drama that was surely for the benefit of herself and Bilbo. The latter leaned over the table to get a closer look at the map.

"The Lonely Mountain," Bilbo read aloud.

"Aye," said another red haired Dwarf named Gloin. "Oin has read the portents, and the portents say it is time!"

"Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain as was foretold," Oin began. _"'When the birds of yore return to Erebor, the reign of the beast will end.'"_

"Uh, what beast?" Bilbo asked.

Elwen knew. The beast from the fire back at the bookshop.

"A dragon," she breathed.

Everyone turned and looked at her. Gandalf looked concerned, and Thorin looked almost intrigued.

"Well, yes," Bofur said, sounding a bit taken aback. Then he turned to Bilbo. "That would be reference to Smaug the Terrible, chiefest and greatest calamity of our age. Airborne-fire-breather, teeth like razors, claws like meat-hooks, extremely fond of precious metals-"

"Yes, I know what a dragon is," Bilbo interrupted, looking a bit pale.

"Well I'm not afraid!" shouted the usually soft-spoken Ori. "I'll give him a taste of the Dwarfish iron right up his jacksie!"

The table erupted into shouting and the silver haired Dori grabbed his younger brother and said, "Sit down! And do NOT talk like that in front of a lady!"

"The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us," Balin said, trying to be reasonable. "But we number just thirteen, and not thirteen of the best, nor brightest."

"Ha!" Elwen laughed and looked straight at Thorin. "You got that right!"

The Dwarves erupted into angry shouts. "Hey, who are you calling dim!?" shouted one. "Watch it!" shouted another. "What did he say?" shouted Oin.

"We may be few in number, but we're fighters, all of us!" Fili's call was heard above the rest. "To the last Dwarf!"

"And you forget, we have a Wizard in our company!" Kili added to his brothers' speech. "Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time!"

"Oh well," Gandalf stammered. Elwen looked at him a bit wide eyed. "Now, uh, I—I—I wouldn't say that, I-"

"How many, then?" Dori asked.

"Uh, what?" Gandalf started, caught off guard. Elwen delighted, just a bit, in watching him squirm.

"Well, how many dragons have you killed? Go on, give us a number!" Dori urged.

Gandalf replied by pretending to cough and choke on pipe smoke. This caused the table to erupt in more shouts, everyone arguing all at once about how many dragons the Wizard had vanquished.

 _None_ , Elwen thought. _He's killed none. Oh boy._ This quest was starting to look more and more like something she didn't want to do with every passing second.

Finally Thorin grew tired of the noise. He stood and slammed a heavy hand down on the table and shouted.

" _Shazara_!"

Elwen didn't know what the hell it meant, but everyone fell silent.

"If we have read these signs, do you not think others will have read them too?" he raged. "Rumors have begun to spread. The dragon Smaug has not been seen for 60 years. Eyes look east to the Mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim with is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor? _Du Bekar! Du Bekar!_ "

This final bit must have been some kind of battle cry because it seemed to get everyone pumped, all except the rational Balin.

"You forget; the front gate is sealed. There is no way into the mountain," pointed out the elder Dwarf.

"That," Gandalf began, "my dear Balin, is not entirely true. Elwen, the key, if you please."

Elwen flashed Thorin an apprehensive glance before reaching into the pouch hanging from her belt and producing the ancient, heavy key that she had found in her kettle. She took a few hesitant steps toward Thorin before thrusting out her hand. He took the key with shaking fingers, deep blue eyes staring at her.

"How came you by this?" Thorin asked hoarsely when he was finally able to speak.

Elwen's eyes grew slightly round at the look upon the proud Dwarf's face. He looked shocked, slightly frightened, but suddenly incredibly hopeful. It was as if she'd just forked over the answers to all of his problems. Hope looked good on him, though she'd be damned before she ever admitted it.

"It came to me by your father, by Thrain, for safekeeping. It was passed to Elwen when I was in need of a friend to ensure it remained hidden and unharmed." Gandalf pinned Thorin with a look. "She has safeguarded your home, Thorin Oakenshield."

"Who is she?" Thorin asked breathlessly. "Who is this girl you trust so well? Where does she come from?"

"This girl has a name," Elwen snapped.

"An Elvish name," Thorin said, the suspicion already back in his voice.

"I didn't name myself!" she shouted. "I didn't even know it was Elvish until today. Yesterday. What day?" Elwen asked, looking at Gandalf. Her days were completely screwed up.

"Yesterday," he confirmed.

"Yesterday." She nodded curtly.

"Elwen is not so unlike you, Thorin," Gandalf said, eyeing the Dwarf. "She comes from somewhere far away, a place you've never heard of, and where she had never heard of you. She, like you, has been wandering in search for her true home. But where you have your kin, Elwen has none."

A few of the company made sounds of shock and sympathy.

"You've no family, lass?" Bofur asked as though the lack of relations were the greatest tragedy he could think of.

Elwen nodded, feeling a bit downtrodden now herself.

"I'm an orphan," she explained. "I was abandoned when I was a baby with nothing except the name Elwen Greenlea painted on the side of a basket."

Elwen didn't know exactly how old she was. The date of birth issued was the day she was found at the hospital. The year was estimated due to a doctor guessing at how old she was that day thanks to a medical examination. _I wonder if I'll ever know my true birthday_.

"We Dwarves value our kin very highly, Miss Greenlea," Balin said with great sadness. "It's unimaginable, abandoning our own."

Elwen winced. Clearly whatever race she belonged to didn't have the same reservations.

"There may yet prove a purpose to your being hidden away, my dear." Gandalf was much too good at guessing her feelings, but she flashed him a small grateful smile anyway.

"I just want to find out who-what- I am. I don't know the exact details of why you're all meeting or where you're going, but I'd like to go with you," Elwen said, her voice confident. Sure, there'd be a dragon, but maybe that would be a small price to pay to find her family.

"The question is _if_ we go," Balin muttered.

"If there is a key, there must be a door," Fili piped up.

 _No shit_ , Elwen thought, rolling her eyes. "You're a bloody genius, aren't ya?" she muttered, but was ignored.

Gandalf pointed at the runes on the map with his pipe. "These runes speak of a hidden passage to the lower halls."

"There's another way in!" Kili put his arm around his brother and grinned.

She almost groaned aloud. She was going to go face down a dragon with a bunch of buffoons.

"Well," Gandalf added, "if we can find it, but Dwarf doors are invisible when closed. The answers lie hidden somewhere in this map and I do not have the skill to find it. But there are others in Middle-earth who can. The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth, and no small amount of courage. But, if we are careful and clever, I believe that it can be done."

Cleverness seemed a bit too much to ask of these Dwarves, but Elwen kept that opinion to herself.

"That's why we need a burglar," said Ori.

"Hm, a good one, too," Bilbo mused, tugging at his suspenders. Elwen wanted to slug him. "An expert, I'd imagine."

"Or two," Gandalf said, looking at Elwen. Thorin grunted.

"And are you?" Gloin asked Bilbo first, then tuned to Elwen.

Elwen shrugged.

"Am I what?" Bilbo asked.

"They said they're experts! Hey Hey!" cheered Oin. Several Dwarves cheered and laughed.

"M-me?" Bilbo squeaked. "No, no no no no. I'm not a burglar; I've never stolen a thing in my life!"

"I'm afraid I have to agree with Mr. Baggins," said Balin. "He's hardly burglar material. And Miss Greenlea-"

Bilbo nodded in agreement but Elwen cast Balin a nasty glare, which cut him short.

"Aye," Dwalin said drolly, "the wild is no place for gentlefolk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves."

"You wanna see how gentle I am, baldy?!" Elwen yelled.

This started another round of shouting, which Gandalf grew quickly tired of. He rose to his full height, and an eerie shadow not quite his own filled the room.

"Enough!" the Wizard's words seemed to echo throughout the house. "If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is!" Gandalf became quiet for a moment, the shadow seemed to evaporate, and he sat back down in his little chair. "Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet. In fact, they can pass unseen by most if they choose. And while a dragon is accustomed to the smell of Dwarf, the scent of Hobbit is all but unknown to him, which gives us a distinct advantage. You asked me to find the fourteenth member of this company, and I have chosen Mr. Baggins. There's a lot more to him than appearances suggest, and he's got a great deal more to offer than any of you know, including himself. You must trust me on this. And as for Elwen-"

"Very well, we will do it your way," Thorin said. "As far as the Hobbit goes."

"No no no!" Bilbo stammered.

"Give him the contract," Thorin said.

"Please-"

"Alright, we're off!" shouted Bofur as Balin handed Bilbo a long contract.

"It's just the usual summary of out-of-pocket expenses, time required, remuneration, funeral arrangements, so forth," explained Balin.

"Funeral arrangements!?" Bilbo asked nervously.

While Bilbo was in the hallway busily going over the contract, Thorin turned to Elwen.

"Why do you wish to come with us when you are not even sure of the task at hand?" he asked.

"It's pretty simple," Elwen said with a shrug. "You fellows are going to be tromping over half of Middle-earth. I don't really care what you're after, though I have a bit more of an idea now. You want the same thing I do; home. So, I'll help you get yours and you can help me get mine."

"I realize you feel that you only need one burglar, but I have a feeling our young lady here will benefit us as much as we may benefit her," Gandalf said, turning to the Dwarves. "What say you?"

The Dwarves leaned in and murmured to one another, deciding her fate. All except their leader, who studied Elwen with thoughtful eyes. She refused to shy away from his gaze, but felt a fluttering of unease despite herself. His eyes were so striking, the color of a great tempest thundering over a beautiful blue sea. There was a hardness to them, a hint of the darkness they had seen, and a darkness held within. She wondered who this person really was, why everyone looked at him with such respect and adoration. He wasn't their leader for no reason.

 _Who are you, Thorin Oakenshield?_

* * *

The girl refused to break eye contact. This both irritated and impressed Thorin. This girl, who looked young but not quite innocent, stared back at him with no hint of fear, only curiosity and perhaps a little contempt. Elwen- the girl with an Elven name in Elven garb, but with the round ears of Man.

 _And no kin_ , he thought, not without pity.

Had it not been for his people, Thorin knew he could not have borne the shame of being expelled from his rightful home and robbed of his birthright. The girl had no birthright to speak of and never had. Like himself, she had no home and would do anything to find the place in which she belonged. Even for him, as cold as he'd grown, it was hard to consider denying her aid.

But though he wore no crown and sat upon no throne, Thorin was the rightful King Under the Mountain, and his first thoughts must be to his own people. Among these twelve were his sister's sons, Fili and Kili, both Princes, Fili his heir. He could not allow this girl knowledge of their journey if it were to mean danger for his nephew's, the last of the Line of Durin.

That was the question. Was the girl friend or foe?

He had no way of knowing other than Gandalf's reassurance. Under normal circumstances, the Wizard's word would have been enough. Thorin's father had trusted Gandalf enough to give him the key to Erebor. Gandalf had given it to the girl, who had allegedly kept it safe despite not knowing the artifacts origin or purpose. Many in Middle-earth would have gladly slit her pale throat to get their hands on that key. How had she survived all alone, and from where did she come? Those were the questions that gave him pause.

Who was Elwen Greenlea and what would they learn of her identity along their travels?

She was a wisp of a girl. Not tall, but not terribly small either. She was lean and lithe and held herself with an heir of strength and confidence he did not expect from one so young. She was pretty, he begrudgingly admitted to himself. He _was_ male and he _wasn't_ blind. Her long, earthy brown hair fell just past her shoulders, and the green of her tunic suited her fair skin. And she smiled like a cat with a plumb, juicy mouse caught in its claws. She had neither the height nor grace of an Elf. She did not seem to float and flounce when she moved about. She could easily pass for half-Elf, though something like that hadn't been heard of for an age. He wondered about her reflexes and skill in combat, if it was something that came naturally to her.

What troubled Thorin the most about the girl was a strange, curious thing. Many would accuse him of being put off by the fact he found her handsome, but it was more than that.

Elwen's eyes, which gazed into his own unflinchingly, were so pale it was hard for him to believe they were real. They were the color of steel with just a hint of the clearest blue of a warm spring morning. Her eyes were starlight and moonshine. Elven eyes. And what disturbed him the most was the fact that he would have sworn he'd seen those eyes before.

Thorin blinked and turned away. He could almost feel her smirking in satisfaction. That was fine, he'd let her win…this time.

He looked toward his men, his kin. The only Dwarves who had answered his call for aid. They were wrapping up their discussion about whether or not Elwen should join them on their quest. They knew he had the final word, but they also knew him to be fair and take their concerns and opinions under advisement. The group turned to their leader, a few with smiles on their faces, and a few with deep scowls.

"We think," Balin began, "Miss Greenlea would be a welcome addition to our company."

Balin was the oldest of the party and arguably the wisest, so Thorin was likely to heed his words. However, he wanted to hear from someone who didn't look so pleased with themselves.

"Dwalin," Thorin said. "What do you think? Honestly, now."

Dwalin heaved a sigh and pushed himself away from the table with his massive arms. Dwalin was one of Thorin's best warriors and a lifelong friend. He'd seen the massive Dwarf cleave an enemy's skull in half with one swing of his mighty axe.

"The key gives us a chance," Dwalin said in his rough-as-rock voice, "and we number few. Another companion couldn't hurt. But can she fight? Can she handle the journey? She and the Hobbit look…" Dwalin broke off, looking at Elwen. She shot him a look that could have soured fresh milk.

"Well, can you?" Bofur asked the girl. "Fight, that is?"

"Can _you_?" Elwen fired back flatly, arching an eyebrow.

This remark earned her a round of appreciative laughter from everyone, including Bofur. Thorin surprised himself by chuckling a bit. She wouldn't let the men run her over, that was for sure.

"Can you fight, Miss Greenlea?" Thorin asked. The anger had completely vanished from his voice. "Be honest. In a battle for your life or the lives of your companions, could you save yourself or others?"

Elwen's eyes softened and the hardness of her face melted like snow being brushed with a spring breeze. She looked younger as her unfeeling mask slipped ever so slightly. The sharpness was gone from her voice when next she spoke.

"I've studied different fighting styles," she began, then sighed, "but I'll admit, it's nowhere close to the caliber in which I'm sure you all were trained. I'm a quick study, however, and would soak in all you could teach me. I'm light on my feet and I'll not be a burden to you."

The look she gave him as she spoke was what did it. Out of everything in the world that could sway him, it was the desperation he saw in the icy depths of her eyes that made him shiver. It was as if she were speaking from her soul straight to his.

"Please," she whispered, barely audible.

She said it like he was her only hope in ever finding what she'd lost. Perhaps she would help him do the same.

"You are no Elf," he said finally. "An Elf would never ask a Dwarf for anything, nevertheless say please. Alright, you may join us."

Many of the Dwarves roared with cheers and stamped their feet. Clearly in the little time they'd spent with her, she had made a strong impression.

"I have conditions!" Thorin called over the commotion.

Everyone grew quieter but no one stopped smiling. In the silence, Thorin could hear Bilbo in the hallway reading over the contract. The Halfling was going to be in for a nasty surprise toward the end…

"First, you _will_ carry your own weight. We shall be traveling through the wilds where there will be little comfort. You have said you will not be a burden, and I would hold you to that." Elwen nodded, a grin playing on her lips. "Secondly, you will also train in combat. When there is time to spare, one of us will instruct you, and you will not complain. To travel with us means to fight with us. Can you do that?" Again she nodded, her grin growing wider. "Lastly, you will sign the contract along with Master Baggins. If along this journey you do find someone who perhaps knows about your past, you would be welcome to quit us at any time, but that would mean forfeiting your share of the profits, if there are any."

Elwen's full smile bloomed across her face like the loveliest of flowers. She extended a hand toward him and beamed.

"We have a deal!"

Thorin hesitated for a moment before reaching for her hand. He suddenly felt as though he were standing on the brink of something so much larger than himself. He had to be strong be a leader, be a King, but there was something about this girl, this _woman_ , that gave him pause, and it was more than just her eyes. He had this feeling deep in his being that she would play an important role in the days, weeks, months ahead, but he did not know how or why.

When his rough fingers brushed the softness of her hand, Thorin felt a wave of hope wash over him like a warm summer rain. He had his company. He had the key. And for the first time in many years, he knew they had a chance of winning back their homeland. They gripped forearms, him mindful of her delicate bones, and he prayed to Mahal that he would not live to regret this.

"Welcome to the company."

* * *

Elwen was quite surprised when Bilbo Baggins fainted dead away after reading the contract. She'd heard him mumbling, reading the contract aloud to himself, and it was all going alright until he got to the end.

"Present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted or sustained as a consequence thereof including but not limited to lacerations-evisceration- _incineration_?!"

Bilbo whirled around on the Dwarves, eyes wide with fear.

"Oh, aye," said Bofur. "He'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye."

Bilbo let out a flustered, "Huh," and bent over, looking nauseous and dazed.

"You alright, laddie?" Balin asked.

"Uh yeah…" Bilbo groaned. "Feel a bit faint."

"Think furnace," Bofur said, "with wings!"

"Air…I-I-I need air."

"Flash of light, searing pain, then POOF! You're nothing but a pile of ash!"

Elwen wanted to punch Bofur in the face.

Bilbo panted and did his best to compose himself. For just a second it seemed like he'd overcome the panic that had been building inside him…but then he started to teeter.

"Hmmm. Nope."

He hit the floor with a soft thud.

"Bilbo!" Elwen shouted, racing to his side.

"Ah yes, very helpful Bofur," Gandalf said sarcastically, moving to help her prop Bilbo up.

A few minutes later they were sitting the poor fellow down in a comfortable chair with a strong cup of tea.

"I'll be alright," said a shaky Bilbo. "Let me just sit quietly for a moment."

"You've been sitting quietly for far too long!" exclaimed Gandalf. "Tell me; when did doilies and your mother's dishes become so important to you? I remember a young Hobbit who always was running off in search of elves in the woods, who'd stay out late, come home after dark, trailing mud and twigs and fireflies. A young Hobbit who would have liked nothing better than to find out what was beyond the borders of the Shire. The world is not in your books and maps; it's out there."

Gandalf motioned toward the window, to the land that lay beyond. His speech had moved Elwen, though she was not the intended audience.

"I can't just go running off into the blue!" Bilbo said with enthusiasm. "I am a Baggins of Bag End!"

"You are also a Took," replied the Wizard. "Did you know that your great-great-great-great uncle, Bulroarer Took, was so large he could ride a real horse?" Gandalf asked, pointing to a portrait of a rather large Hobbit hanging on the wall.

"Yes," Bilbo sighed as if he'd heard the story a thousand times before.

"Well, he could! In the Battle of Green Fields, he charged the goblin ranks. He swung his club so hard it knocked the Goblin King's head clean off, and it sailed a hundred yards through the air and went down a rabbit hole. And thus the battle was won, and the game of golf invented at the same time!"

"I do believe you made that up," Bilbo said accusingly.

"Well," Gandalf smiled sheepishly, "all good stories deserve embellishment. You'll have a tale or two to tell of your own when you come back."

Bilbo pinned Gandalf with a stare.

"Can you promise that I will come back?"

"No," Gandalf said after a moment of tense silence. "And if you do, you will not be the same."

Gandalf's eyes met Elwen's, as if he wanted her to heed his words as well. She simply nodded to him, fully understanding the consequences of what she was doing. She wasn't going to change her mind.

"That's what I thought," said the Hobbit heavily. "Sorry Gandalf, I can't sign this. You've got the wrong Hobbit."

Bilbo walked down the hallway, past Thorin and Balin, and disappeared into another room. Elwen's shoulders slumped and she plopped heavily down into the chair Bilbo had just abandoned. Gandalf sighed heavily and stared into the fire.

A moment later, Elwen heard the mutterings of Thorin and Balin right outside in the hallway. She knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but she couldn't help it.

"It appears we have lost our burglary," Balin said, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Probably for the best. The odds were always against us. After all, what are we? Merchants, miners, tinkers, toy-makers; hardly the stuff of legend."

"There are a few warriors amongst us," Thorin replied, his fondness evident in his voice.

Balin chuckled. "Old warriors."

"I will take each and every one of these Dwarves over an army from the Iron Hills," Thorin said with passion, "for when I called upon them, they answered. Loyalty. Honor. A willing heart. I can ask no more than that."

"You don't have to do this," Balin all but pleaded. "You have a choice. You've done honorably by our people. You have built a new life for us in the Blue Mountains; a life of peace and plenty. A life that is worth more than all the gold in Erebor."

Again, Elwen was left wondering why this responsibility of etching out a life for these people fell to Thorin. What made him so important?

"From my grandfather to my father, this has come to me," Thorin said. He must have been talking about the key. "They dreamt of the day when the Dwarves of Erebor would reclaim their homeland. There is no choice, Balin. Not for me."

Balin sighed, clearly having lost the battle. Thorin was as unmoving as a mountain and his commitment to the cause just as eternal.

"Then we are with you, laddie," said the elder. "We will see it done."

Elwen walked into the hallway just as the two Dwarves were turning to walk away.

"You shouldn't underestimate him," Elwen said. Thorin turned and saw her standing in the doorway and raised an eyebrow. "Bilbo, that is. We have a saying where I'm from. 'Dynamite comes in small packages,' which is a warning not to underestimate the little guy. There's more to Bilbo Baggins than meets the eye."

She wasn't entirely sure how she knew this. It was just a hunch, but she had a feeling the little fellow would come around and surprise everyone.

As the night grew later and the fire burned lower, the Dwarves gathered in the sitting groom smoking pipes and telling tales. Elwen remained in the kitchen with her own thoughts and fears about the voyage until all in the house grew quiet. At first, she thought they'd all turned in for the night, but then she heard the low voices of thirteen Dwarvish men. They were humming.

Elwen carefully made her way to the living room and stood silently in the doorway, wishing to remain unseen.

Thorin stood close on the hearth and stared into the fireplace. The flames sent shadows dancing across his handsome face, and his haunted stare made her go cold.

 _Oh, I didn't realize_ , she wanted to say, but stayed silent. _I didn't understand how much you've suffered_.

And then Thorin began to sing. His voice was deep and beautiful in a way, but the pain and longing that trilled through each note made tears jump to her eyes and slide down her cheeks before she could stop them. Soon some of the others joined in and together the Dwarves of Erebor sang the most heartbreaking song Elwen had ever heard.

 _Far over the misty mountains cold/to dungeons deep and caverns old/we must away ere break of day/to find our long forgotten gold/ The pines were roaring on the height/the winds were moaning in the night/the fire was red, it flaming spread/the trees like torches blazed with light_

When the last note had faded, Thorin looked up from the flames and their eyes met. She blinked back more tears, unable to bare his look of sorrow. Elwen had never truly had a home in which to lose. The group shelter she'd lived in since she was found at the hospital had certainly never felt like a safe haven. Her flat wasn't somewhere she could lay down roots.

Thorin and his company had a legacy. He had lived and loved and fought in the place of his ancestors. To have all that snatched away, to be stripped of everything you hold dear…It must have been unbearable.

Elwen decided she would rather wander forever, never having anything of her own, never being anyone's daughter, rather than have held all of those things in the palm of her hand only to watch it all burn.


	5. Chapter 5 The Wilds and The King

Chapter 5 **The Wilds and The King**

Thorin and company were to wake before dawn broke. There was room enough for all of the guests to sleep comfortably in Bag End, which he was glad for. There would be few comforts once they started their long trek toward the Lonely Mountain.

He himself had refused a bed and instead sat up in an all be it cushioned, comfortable chair next to the fireplace in Master Baggins' sitting room. His mind was too disturbed for slumber right away.

When he closed his eyes, he saw the bodies. Mounds upon mounds of his slain people. He saw them burned after the dragon had done with them. He saw the dead in stacks on the battlefield of Moria. His grandfather's head dangling from the hand of that vile, wretched creature. Rivers of blood and heaps of gore. Thorin was a haunted Dwarf and the phantoms of his past never did go quietly.

His thoughts strayed to the girl as he sat up after everyone else was dreaming. He thought of the way she had silently wept while listening to their song. _What had touched her so_ , he wondered?

Thorin was ill at ease with her joining his party. He could not banish the feeling that she would become important, and the uncertainty of it all put him on edge. He wanted to know who she was, where she came from, and the mystery of it unnerved him.

Origins were important to Dwarves. Great tapestries were sewn and displayed to honor ones heritage. A Dwarf would never abandon their own. Exile, yes, should the crime be severe enough, but never a babe or small child who could not fend for themselves. Even those in exile still retained their identity. Thorin could not imagine growing up without knowledge of his lineage.

Elwen's lack of ancestral knowledge did not seem to affect her the way it might have others. She was bold as brass and, in her own way, very kind where others may have been timid or bitter. He imagined someone with no family to honor could be cruel, for they would have no one to hold them accountable or to disappoint. Elwen was not cruel; she proved that when she had raced to the Halflings side when he fainted. She'd taken Bofur, Fili, and Kili to task for laughing and done all she could to comfort the Hobbit.

 _And she's no coward_ , he thought, unable to keep the small smile from his lips. While Bilbo Baggins had panicked at the thought of a dragon, Elwen had lifted her chin and nodded stiffly. She was frightened, any sane person would be, but she signed the contract and pledged her loyalty to the company despite her fear. That was bravery. Who had taught her such things if not her kin?

Thorin felt his eyes begin to droop. He let himself slip off to sleep at last, his dreams quiet and filled with the shadows of a mountain he had not seen in a long, long time.

* * *

Elwen had never ridden a horse before.

The thirteen Dwarves were all on ponies with Gandalf on a full grown horse. She got a young mare, not quite a pony, but nowhere near the size of Gandalf's beast. She probably could have ridden a lager animal but was grateful for Annabelle. When she told the group a bit sheepishly that she'd never ridden before, no one had seemed concerned.

"Then you had better learn quickly," Thorin had replied gruffly, and they were off.

Elwen was relieved that the horse did most of the work for her, so she was able to enjoy the view. The Shire was breathtaking in the sunshine. The landscape was incredibly varied and each place as beautiful as the last. They rode over lush green fields and rolling hills dotted with houses. The farmer's fields looked swollen with crops. The Shire seemed a very nice, happy place to live, and she found herself envying the luck of Hobbits.

They'd been traveling for the better part of an hour when a voice called out to them.

"Wait! Wait!"

Elwen looked over her shoulder and beamed when she saw Bilbo Baggins racing down the path, arms flailing, the lengthy contract blowing behind him in the breeze. The company came to a stop to let the Hobbit catch up.

"I signed it!" he shouted, panting heavily. He passed the contract up to Balin, who inspected it with a looking glass he produced from his pocket.

"Everything appears to be in order," he said, smiling at Bilbo. "Welcome, Master Baggins, to the company of Thorin Oakenshield."

The rest of the company chuckled, all except for Thorin. The leader of their party scowled, looking incredibly unimpressed.

"Give him a pony," Thorin said gruffly.

"No, no no no," stammered Bilbo, "That won't be necessary, thank you, but I-I'm sure I can keep up on foot. I-I-I've done my fair share of walking holidays, you know. I even got as far as Frogmorton once-AAHHHHHHH!"

Bilbo was cut off by Fili and Kili, who had ridden up on both sides of him, picked him up like a parent picks up a small child underneath the armpits, and hoisted him into a saddle.

Elwen couldn't help but laugh at the way Bilbo rode his pony. His arms were stiff and his eyes squinting at the horse like it was the most distasteful creature on earth.

"Come on Nori, pay up," said Oin. "Go on."

The bags of coin began to pass back and forth and fly through the air. Elwen caught hers with ease and smiled at a bewildered Bilbo.

"What's that about?" he asked.

"Oh, they took wagers on whether or not you'd turn up," said Gandalf. "Most of them bet that you wouldn't."

"What did you two think?" Bilbo asked, looking between herself and Gandalf.

"I knew you had it in you," Elwen said, holding up her bag proudly.

Gandalf made a noncommittal noise, but soon caught a sack of money and put it in his satchel.

"My dear fellow," said the Wizard, grinning, "I never doubted you for a second."

A few minutes of silent travel later, Bilbo let out a loud sneeze.

"Oh, this horse hair. Having a reaction." Bilbo rifled through his pockets and shouted, "No, no wait, wait, stop! Stop! We have to turn around," when he could not locate what he was looking for. The company came to a halt and everyone turned to stare at the Hobbit.

"What on earth is the matter?" asked Gandalf.

"I forgot my handkerchief," replied Bilbo.

Elwen face-palmed.

"Here!" Bofur said and tore a strip of cloth off a shirt that looked like it hadn't been washed in weeks and tossed it to Bilbo. "Use this."

Bilbo caught the rag and made the mistake of smelling it. The Dwarves laughed at his look of disgust.

"Move on," Thorin said, sound bored, and they were once again on their way.

"You will have to manage without pocket-handkerchiefs and a good many other things, Bilbo Baggins, before we reach our journey's end," Gandalf said as they road. "You were born to the rolling hills and little rivers of the Shire, but home is now behind you. The world is ahead."

The entire day was spent on horseback, traveling through forests and over hills and plains. Bilbo made mention when they crossed the borders of the Shire, seeming troubled. He had never been so far away from home, and Elwen knew he worried that he would never return.

When they began to lose the light, Thorin found a secluded, rocky spot on the side of a cliff for them to camp. Elwen noted that there were no tents, only bedrolls and a few blankets. She was surprised that the idea of sleeping out in the open didn't bother her. She was excited about camping out beneath the stars, the thought of bugs and the elements not putting her off. Elwen's flat hadn't exactly been rodent free, and she'd learned that if you give the bug a wide berth, it will usually do the same to you.

"Kili," Thorin barked as he helped unpack the ponies and set up camp. "I want you to begin Elwen's training while you still have daylight. She's got the looks of an archer, so that's where you'll start."

"Do you think she's strong enough to pull my bow?" Kili asked, giving her a wink.

It was possibly a legitimate question, but the smirk Kili shared with his brother had her longing to reach out and smack the little douchebag.

"She'll get stronger," Thorin replied shortly. Either he didn't get the joke or he chose to ignore it. Elwen liked him a little better for it.

Kili and Elwen walked a ways away from the group, making sure to stay within yelling distance. Kili handed her his bow, a beautiful recurve made of wood and horn, and told her to knock the arrow.

As it turned out, Kili's little joke at camp seemed to have some truth to it after all. His bow was a recurve compact and reminded her of the bows Mongol's on horseback used during the time of the Kan's. She'd studied the Mongol's culture and military history in school and knew it took quite a bit of strength to pull their bows, and the young dark haired Dwarf's was no different.

Elwen wasn't weak by any standard, but she couldn't delude herself into believing she was as strong as a Dwarf.

It took a lot of sweating and grunting, but she finally managed to pull back the arrow with shaking arms. When she let the arrow fly, it hit their designated target (a tree several feet ahead of them), which sufficiently shocked them both. Kili was especially impressed as he had assumed she would completely miss her mark on the first try.

"If that tree was an orc, you'd have hit its chest!" Kili's smile stretched across his face, making him look younger and twice as handsome. "You're a natural! You got the stance right after barely any coaching at all! Are you sure you've never used a bow before?"

"Fairly sure," Elwen replied, though something tugged on the edge of her memory where there was normally just a dark, empty space. A small bow made for a child, a voice coaching her to try…

"Maybe when I was little? Oh, I can't remember!" She let out a huff of frustration.

"I don't remember my father very well. At all, to be honest," Kili said with sympathy. "I know it's different from your situations!" he added hastily. "I'm grateful to know where I come from and who my family is. But I don't remember his face. I was too young…"

"Do you mind if I ask how he died?" she asked quietly.

Dwarves didn't strike her as the type to get divorced as they seemed to have constitutions much like the mountains they dwelled in; solid and constant. So that only left one option as to why Kili couldn't remember his father.

"He died in battle," he said, the sadness heavy in his voice. "Fili remembers him a little, I think; he won't talk about it. Dwarves don't talk much about that sort of thing."

He smiled ruefully. Elwen couldn't resist reaching out and wrapping her small hand around his huge, calloused fingers. He squeezed her hand and lifted it closer to his face as if to take a closer look.

"I've never seen hands as delicate as yours," he mused.

Realization dawned on him like a slap in the face when he realized his lips were so close to her hand. He dropped it as if it were a snake and his face turned as red as Bombur's beard. The sweet, shy look on his face made her wonder…

"How old are you, Kili?" she asked, trying to sound casual. It was getting dark out and the pair were headed back to the campsite.

"I'm only seventy-seven," he said glumly. "I know I'm not of age yet, but you can't be older than I!" he added almost defensively.

Elwen's eyes became round as dinner plates and she stopped in her tracks.

"You mean to tell me you are nearly eight decades old?!" She was on the verge of hysteria. The only member of their company that looked anywhere near eighty was Balin. How old was he!? "But…but…I just turned twenty!"

Oh my God, and I think he's handsome! He and Fili and Thorin! Oh no…how old is Thorin!?

"Is that of age where you come from?" Kili asked, clearly not bothered by the huge age gap.

Elwen nodded dumbly. "People come of age at eighteen."

"Eighteen!" he exclaimed.

Elwen thought eighteen was quite a reasonable age, but to a Dwarf an eighteen year old would probably seem like a small child. That thought made her stomach drop. _Thorin must think me such a sad, lost little thing_ , she thought bleakly, unsure as to why she cared so much. _No wonder he didn't want me to come_.

Darkness crept over them slowly and silently, as if a thief had slowly been siphoning away the sun when no one was looking. Elwen helped around camp where she was needed but otherwise kept to herself and stayed quiet.

There was so much about Middle-earth that she didn't know. By coming here, did she change the way she aged as well? Did _everyone_ age slower? She thought about the fact that everyone thought she was an Elf. If that turned out to be the case, would that make her immortal?

That thought made her shiver from the base of her spine, as if someone had dripped ice water down her shirt. Elwen had grown up in a generation obsessed with staying young, enteral youth, living forever. But the thought of her life stretching endlessly onward made her ill. She didn't want to outlive those she grew to care for. She didn't want to endlessly wander for so long that she memorized every rock and tree and star.

 _Even stars die_ , she thought. _The light we see is often only the memory of light_.

Elwen did not wish to outlive the memory of starlight, for there would never be a point in which she could learn to leave feelings like loss and grief behind.

There was a sudden horrific screaming from somewhere below them, echoing through the darkness of the forest.

Bilbo whirled on Fili and Kili.

"What was that?"

"Orcs," Kili replied seriously.

Another scream tore through the night and Elwen saw Thorin stir.

"Orcs?" Bilbo asked, swiftly moving closer to the fire.

"Throat-cutters. There'll be dozens of them out there. The lowlands are crawling with them," said Fili, giving his brother a look that was not lost on Elwen. She shook her head and settled back into her spot near a tall, thick trunked tree.

"They strike in the wee small hours when everyone's asleep. Quick and quiet; no screams, just lots of blood," Kili faked a shudder.

Bilbo looked frighteningly out over the cliff into the wilderness, which delighted the young Dwarves who, Elwen would swear, started giggling like school girls.

"You think that's funny?" Thorin asked, climbing to his feet. He gave the two young Dwarves a hard glare. "You think a night raid by Orcs is a joke?"

"We didn't mean anything by it," Kili said lowly, having the decency to look ashamed.

"No, you didn't," Thorin replied viciously as he stalked away. "You know nothing of the world."

He walked to the edge of the cliff and looked over the valley, his back rigid. Elwen frowned and looked at Balin.

"Don't mind him, laddie" said Balin, looking from the boys and then to her. "Thorin has more cause than most to hate Orcs. After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain, King Thror tried to reclaim the ancient Dwarf kingdom of Moria. But our enemy had got there first."

Balin painted a terrifying picture with his words, one of death, destruction, and grief. The villain of the tale, Azog the Defiler, sounded like a creature straight from Hell. Balin described him as a giant Gundabad Orc who had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin.

Elwen felt sick when Balin described Azog beheading the Dwarf King.

"Thrain, Thorin's father, was driven mad by grief. He went missing, taken prisoner or killed, we did not know. We were leaderless. Defeat and death were upon us. That is when I saw him; a young Dwarf prince facing down the Pale Orc."

Thorin. Thorin was the young Dwarf prince. Thror had been his grandfather. He and Azog fought, Thorin only using a large Oak branch as a shield. _Oakenshield_.

Azog the Defiler had tried to wipe out the line of Durin but found it not so easily broken. When Azog's arm was cut off by a fearless Thorin, the Dwarves rallied and defeated their enemy, but at a heavy cost.

"Our dead were beyond the count of grief. We few had survived," Balin's voice was heavy, as if he were weighed down by the memory of corpse upon corpse of his fallen comrades. "I thought to myself then, there is one who I could follow. There is one I could call King."

By that point, everyone was looking at Thorin, a bit thunder struck. He had turned back toward the group, listening to Balin's tale.

"And the Pale Orc? What happened to him?" Bilbo asked.

"He slunk back into the hole whence he came. That filth died of his wounds long ago," Thorin replied, his voice sharp as a blade and hard as stone.

 _My God_ , Elwen thought. It all made sense. Everything from his attitude to the loyalty his men showed him. What he had gone through, all he had lost…

Elwen felt the sting of tears in her eyes, and when they fell, they scorched hot trails down her cheeks. Thorin gazed at his men a moment, and then his eyes fell upon her. They widened just a fraction at the sight of her openly, though silently, weeping for him. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but closed it again.

He shook his head and wandered back over to the cliffs edge, away from the company, and sat down, his back to a large boulder. He once again gazed out at the valley below, seemingly unafraid of how high up he was.

"That was quite a story, Balin," said Bilbo after a fashion.

Elwen nodded in agreement. Kili handed her a rag to wipe her face.

"I hope that helps you understand him a little better." He looked over at the solitary figure of Thorin and sighed. "I know he comes off as cold and unfeeling, but-"

"The truth is," Fili continued in his brother's stead, "sometimes Thorin feels too much."

Elwen looked at Thorin, a king, as he tipped his head up and looked to the sky. Did he enjoy the heavens the way she did? She wanted to know. She wanted to know his mind, the way he thought. What did he dream about besides a way to reclaim his birthright?

Before she could tell her legs to stop, Elwen found herself moving toward him. Fili and Kili both made noises of protest, but her feet were moving on their own accord; her body could do nothing but follow.

She sat down next to Thorin, close enough to feel his heat but not to touch.

Thorin peered at her from the corner of his eye as she let her feet dangle over the edge. Not even an immortal Elf could survive the fall. She didn't care. If he wasn't afraid, then neither was she.

"So," she said casually. "You're a king. I should have guessed."

Thorin snorted. "A king without a kingdom. Very impressive, I'm sure."

Elwen laughed, then laughed again when he looked surprised that he'd been the cause of her smile.

"I'm not impressed that you're a king," she smirked. "There aren't many kings where I come from."

"Then who rules?" he asked, curious. "Who did you answer to?"

"Ourselves!" Elwen guffawed.

She tried explaining the intricacies of Parliament and democracy but found she probably should have paid closer attention in her government courses. She'd never have guessed that someday she would be educated mythical creatures on the subject.

"It seems complicated," Thorin said, shaking his head.

"It is," she agreed. "Hence why I'm unimpressed with your Kingly-ness." She gave him a look, growing serious. "What I _am_ impressed by is what you've endured and done to help your people."

Thorin wouldn't meet her gaze. She elbowed him lightly, earning a grunt from him in response.

"I heard what Balin said back at Bag End, and he was right. The life you've made for your people is worth more than all the treasure that stupid dragon has been shitting on for however long. _People_ are worth more than gold. I misjudged you, Thorin," she said this last bit softly, "and for that, I'm truly sorry."

* * *

Thorin hadn't been thrilled when Elwen decided to plop down next to him. He craved solitude, his temper much too close to the brink of breaking. He understood his nephews were just having a laugh at the Hobbit's expense, but Orcs were no laughing matter. They were worse than throat-cutters.

Orcs took pleasure in the fear and pain they inflicted. The more their victim screamed, the sweeter the kill. They enjoyed letting their prey watch while they were eaten alive. Slowly. They lived in the vilest of places and were the soldiers of the most evil of beings. They were soulless creatures that prowled through his nightmares and filled him with putrid anger and hate.

He did not want comfort from the girl while he was in such a black mood, but she sat anyway, not dissuaded by any warnings she surely received. And, as unlikely as it was, she had made him feel a bit better. _People are worth more than gold. I misjudged you. I'm sorry._

"Perhaps," he replied slowly, "I misjudged you as well."

That was the closest to an apology she was going to get. She smiled at him and he felt his own lips curve ever so slightly upward.

She rolled her eyes and said, "It won't kill you to smile. I promise I won't tell anyone."

She'd meant it as a joke, but he frowned. He honestly couldn't remember the last time he'd truly smiled due to pure happiness. Grinning at a joke or in greeting, yes, but that was not the same.

"I've gathered enough information to make an educated guess about this quest. We're going to Erebor to reclaim your homeland, but there are still a few pieces to the puzzle that I'm missing."

Thorin raised an eyebrow. He knew it was only a matter of time before she figured out they weren't exactly planning on marching into the Halls of Erebor and facing down a dragon.

"Why do you need a burglar?" she asked. "What are you after?"

Her jaw set stubbornly and her eyes told him that she would have answers or he would find no rest this night.

"I'm not wrong," she continued. "This is a recon mission. You're hoping we'll get in and out before Smaug the Crappy, or whatever his name is, even knows we're there! Ha!"

She shook her head, her hair brushing his shoulder just barely, and turned her eyes toward the stars. Thorin watched as she became transfixed with the heavenly bodies above them.

"Are the stars the same where you're from?" he asked. He wasn't sure why he cared, but he was curious.

Elwen shook her head.

"Everything is different here," she replied. " _I'm_ different here. Did you know that before today, I had never held a bow? Not in my entire life. Yet Kili said I was a natural. I felt like I was born to hold one."

"Maybe you were," Thorin replied simply.

She turned toward him and grinned disbelievingly. He wondered why she'd been trained to fight, wondered if she was from some dangerous land. But now he was beginning to think she hadn't been trained by necessity, but because she'd wanted to know how to defend herself. Perhaps she'd been born a warrior.

"I'm not a coward, Thorin," she said. "I said I'd help you, and I will. I don't want gold or anything. After hearing your story, how could I _not_ want to help? But it's dangerous, and if I'm going to risk my life for you, I think I deserve to know what I might be dying for."

Thorin blinked. He hadn't thought about it that way. She'd never seemed interested in the possibility of treasure, only answers. He studied her face for any sign of falsehood, and found none. She was willing to risk her life to help him regain his homeland, and so it was only fair that he would take a risk as well.

Thorin told Elwen of his own, personal history. He spoke of Dale, when the town was bountiful, peaceful, and prosperous, for it laid at the doors of the greatest kingdom of Middle-earth: Erebor, stronghold of Thror, King under the Mountain and the mightiest of Dwarf Lords.

He told her of the Arkenstone, the King's Jewel, and how his people saw it as a sign of divine rule. He spoke of the vast riches of their halls and happy times. Until the dragon came. A Fire-drake from the north had come for their treasure, for dragons covet gold with a dark and fierce desire.

He told her of their defeat, and the way the great Elven King Thranduil had turned his back and let his people suffer. Thranduil would not risk the lives of his kin against the wrath of the dragon. No help came from the Elves that day, or any day since. Thorin labored in villages, taking work wherever he could, and never a day passed where he did not remember the mountain smoke beneath the moon, the trees like torches blazing bright. He had seen dragon fire in the sky, and his city tuned to ash.

He never forgave, and he never forgot.

When he finished his tale, Elwen whistled lowly.

"Well damn," she said. "Yeah, that dragon needs to die. We need the Arkenstone to make that happen?"

Thorin felt a warmth spread in his chest upon hearing her say _we_ , as if she were now making the demise of Smaug her personal mission as well.

"Yes," he replied. "The Dwarf Kingdoms will only follow he who possesses the Arkenstone. If we want aid in destroying the dragon, first we must take the King's Jewel out from under him."

When Elwen did not reply right away, Thorin asked her, not unkindly, "Are you frightened?"

She flashed a hesitant smile. "A little. I'd have to be mad not to be, but…is it strange that I'm more afraid of the possibility of finding my family then I am about a dragon? What if I don't like where I come from?"

Thorin shook his head. "No; I think it is often more difficult to face ourselves than even the greatest of perils outside our doors. The darkness is often more comfortable than what finds its way to the light."

Thorin was, of course, thinking about his own shame; a detail about his bloodline that he had left out of the story about the fall of Erebor. It was his burden and he would not be judged, or worse, pitied.

"I think you should try to rest," Thorin suggested, shaking himself from dark thoughts. "We will be starting out early."

Elwen nodded and pushed herself off the ground. They made their way back to their companions, most of who were snoring, sleeping soundly except for Fili and Kili, who had been elected first watch. Thorin told them both to get some sleep; he doubted he would rest anytime soon. He would be recalling dragon fire and talk of starlight well into the night.

* * *

Thorin left her to take up his post as night guard. Elwen didn't imagine he was the type that slept much, or easily.

"Come on," Kili motioned to her as she grabbed a bedroll. "You'll be warmer next to us." He winked roguishly and she flushed.

She had nothing to be embarrassed of. They were only trying to be helpful, but Kili and Fili were more than fairly handsome and Elwen had never slept in the same bed as another man, nevertheless two! But it wasn't exactly warm out and she had to admit that she'd sleep better knowing someone was near. So she made her bed on the hard ground and used her pack as a pillow and traveling cloak as a blanket, and was soon nestled between the heat that was Fili and Kili.

"How was your talk with our uncle?" Kili asked.

"Uncle?!" Elwen asked, wide eyed. "Why didn't you tell me Thorin was your uncle?"

"You didn't ask!" Kili chuckled softly and his eyes seemed far away, as if he were remembering something fondly. "He's our mum's brother," he explained. "He helped out with us a lot growing up. He's really the only father I've ever known."

Elwen found herself pealing back another layer from the Dwarf that was Thorin Oakenshield. Leader, friend, crank, King. Now surrogate father. _Maybe I'll never really know him_ , she thought. He felt like some untouchable figure straight from some medieval legend where knights were still honorable and dragons were slain.

"Get some sleep, Elwen," Kili said almost tenderly. He reached out and pushed a lock of hair away from her face. His rough fingers grazed the shell of her ear and she was grateful that the fire burned low. Maybe he wouldn't see her blush.

"I don't care that your ears are around," he whispered. "You're as beautiful as an Elf to me."

He didn't wait for a reply, just rolled over onto his back and closed his eyes, as if telling a girl she was beautiful was commonplace for him. For all she knew, it was

Elwen rolled onto her back as well and watched the sky until her eyes began to droop and she passed into a dream of dragons and fire.

All the while she was unaware of two stormy blue eyes watching her as she slept.

 **Authors Note: Hello and good day ( or night) to you all! Here is yet another chapter. I'm not sure when chapter 6 will be out as I don't want to get caught up to myself as far as writing goes. In order to fit my character into the story as seamlessly as possible, it takes quite some time haha.**

 **Thanks to all who followed and favorited the story, and a big huge super thanks to those who have reviewed! Reviews are incredibly important because it really does motivate me to work on the chapters and produce them as quickly as possible. So please, if you're so inclined, consider dropping me a line or two. I'd love to hear your theories as to where you think I'm taking the story! Very curious to see what you all think!**

 **Cheers and have a great weekend! – L**


	6. Chapter 6 Troll Bogeys and Parasites

Chapter 6 **Troll Bogeys and Parasites**

 _Elwen stood atop a tall stone peak. Ruins of an old fortress? She didn't know, but she'd never been there before, that was for sure._

 _Thorin and Dwalin were by her side, sword and axe at the ready. They were fully armed and in the distance she could hear the clang of steal and the shouts of many. A battle? Bilbo was there as well, looking bloodied and bruised, but still alive._

 _She tried to call out to the Dwarves, but they ignored her as though she weren't there. She tried to grab Thorin, to shake him, but her hand passed through him like a ghost._

" _Thorin!" she screamed again and again but to no avail._

 _There was movement in the stone tower across the distance. A huge, powerfully built Orc, pale and hideous with a metal spike poking through the nub where a hand should be._

 _Elwen knew immediately that she was looking at Azog the Defilier. Thorin had thought him dead, but there he was, and he was holding a struggling Fili several feet off the ground._

 _Thorin didn't move. He stared across the distance at his nephew, his face white as death. Bilbo gasped out "No," but the Dwarves remained silent. They stood, staring on helplessly, knowing there was no way they could reach Fili in time. She once again tried to reach for Thorin's hand and still could not grasp it._

 _Azog spoke in a language that sent chills down her spine. A foul tongue that she understood, but did not know how._

" _This one dies first. Then the brother. Then you, Oakenshield. You will die last."_

 _Elwen thought she might be sick. The voice that came out of that monster…_

" _Go!" cried Fili, trying desperately to save his family, knowing he could not be saved._

 _She saw Thorin shake his head just a fraction. He would not leave his nephew._

" _RUN!" Fili screamed, and she screamed with him as Azog's claw plunged into the back of her friend, the tip protruding from his chest._

 _Her screams did no good. No one could hear her, see her, or touch her. She was standing right next to Thorin as he watched his nephew and heir die… and she could do nothing._

 _The Orc dropped Fili unceremoniously, as if he were trash to be discarded. Elwen dropped to her knees as he hit the ground next to a stricken Kili, who could only gape at the wide, unseeing eyes of his brother._

 _Kili looked up and their eyes met. He could see her!_

" _Elwen," he said, his voice clear as a bell. "It's time to wake up."_

Elwen's eyes flew open as she was shaken awake. She jerked herself into a sitting positions, perilously close to head-butting Kili.

"Woah," Kili gripped her shoulders to steady her. "It's alright, just me. Heavens, you're covered in sweat!"

Elwen's tunic was stuck to her and her hair was damp. _God, I'm going to smell ripe later on._

"I had a strange dream," she muttered, trying to get her bearings.

The rest of the company was just beginning to stir. She was relieved that she hadn't done anything ridiculous like cry out in her sleep, waking everyone.

"Was I in your dream?" Kili asked slyly, wiggling his eyebrows. She numbly nodded, only realizing her mistake when Kili let out a loud _WHOOP_ and cried, "Hear that? Elwen had a dream about me!"

Smirks could be seen and snickers could be heard from the company as they began to break camp and pack up. Thorin shot his nephew a look that clearly conveyed he was unamused.

Elwen wondered how much Thorin had slept. He didn't look tired, but that might mean he was used to functioning on little rest.

She looked up at Kili and replied flatly, "It was a nightmare."

Kili's pleased expression fell and a few of the Dwarves roared with laughter. Even Thorin grinned a little as he packed his pony.

Fili clapped his brother on the back. "You're good to have around, Elwen," he smiled. "We've needed someone who could keep Kili's ego in check."

Elwen looked away. She couldn't look at Fili without seeing his wide, dead eyes after Azog had run him through.

Kili flashed her a lopsided grin and went about putting his things away. "So what was your nightmare about?" he asked.

Elwen shrugged and said she didn't remember very much. She tried to make a joke about having seen Kili in the buff and now she was scarred for life. Everyone had a nice laugh at his expense and then promptly forgot about the dream. Thorin was the only one who looked at her for just a beat longer, his eyes disbelieving.

She couldn't tell him or anyone else about the dream because it didn't _feel_ like a dream. It had seemed too real, so real that she had to do her best to put it out of her mind lest she begin to choke with panic. What if it was a vision like the one she'd had about Smaug back at the bookshop? And since when was she psychic?!

She went about the business of pushing the nightmare from her mind by enjoying breakfast and saddling her horse, which Kili helped with, earning her forgiveness for his off color remark. _Visions indeed_ , she thought with a snort _. I don't believe in that nonsense_.

But a small voice inside her whispered doubts. _You said it yourself_ , it hissed, _you are different here. Perhaps you have magic. Perhaps you can_ see.

As everyone was getting ready to mount their ponies, Thorin stopped by and pretended to make sure her straps were tight enough.

"Did you get enough rest last night?" he asked lowly so only she could hear.

Clearly he hadn't believed that her nightmare had been as tame as she'd let on. She hadn't realized that Thorin watched her so closely.

"I'll be fine," she replied, doing her best to sound chipper. "Promised I'd not be a burden, remember?"

Her smile faltered when his searching eyes found hers. She blinked and looked away. She hated the way his eyes made her feel stripped bare and laid wide open.

"You are not a burden." Thorin spoke as if he were surprised to find the statement true. "I am glad you are well."

He turned around and marched toward his pony, calling to see if everyone was ready. A chorus of "ayes" rang out and soon they were setting out once again into the wilderness.

Gandalf's horse trotted along next to hers and she felt the Wizard's curious stare. She ignored him for almost three full miles before she couldn't take it anymore.

"What?" she snapped.

Gandalf smiled in the way old men do when they think they know something you don't. His twinkling eyes moved to the front of the party where Thorin road at its head.

"You two seem to get on better than I anticipated."

Elwen snorted. "Well, that'll change if we find out I'm an Elf or some other creature he doesn't like."

How Thorin and the others would react should she find out her origins were less than favorable had crossed her mind more than once. Would she be allowed to continue the journey with the Dwarves? By that point, would she want to if she found what she was looking for?

The thought of abandoning the Dwarves felt wrong. Their task was difficult, almost impossible. She wasn't sure her conscience would allow her to quit them, even if she did find a lead. But if they didn't want her…

Her mood was soured after that. Her thoughts ventured down dark paths, and visions of Fili's death haunted her as their day wore on. Soon thunder was booming overhead and rain began to pour, which did nothing to improve Elwen's mood. It didn't take long for the rest of the group to also feel cold, wet, and miserable.

They traveled like that for nearly a week straight. During the brief respites from the sudden rainstorm, Elwen trained with Fili and Kili and slowly began to know them as well as the rest of the company.

Fili and Kili were known to, on occasion, get up to a bit of mischief. They enjoyed doing things like dropping lizards down the backs of people's tunics, or bringing home stray animals for their mother to find chewing on her best house coats. They were also fiercely protective of one another and would go to their deaths fighting for their uncle. They were two of the best fighters in the company and were incredibly disciplined. Kili was a bit reckless, but his brother could always be counted on to make sure he didn't get into more trouble than he could handle.

Elwen found herself with the pair of brothers often, feeling more at home with them than she'd ever remembered feeling. It was a strange feeling, for she'd never had many close friendships growing up. Somehow, though, she felt a kinship with these two, and she would not take that for granted.

Bofur was the best cook out of the company and was often found struggling to keep a fire going during the rainy nights. He made an excellent stew that Elwen was sure she would never grow tired of. She liked eating her food close to the fire while he told stories about his workshop back in the Blue Mountains. He promised that, when they won back Erebor, he would make her one of his famous toys.

Bombur, the rather large Dwarf with the red beard was large because, well, he liked to eat his brothers cooking. But his impressive girth did little to hinder him when it came to travel, so no one felt his obesity was an issue. Elwen wondered if Dwarves had heart attacks. Somehow, she doubted it very much.

Dori was proper, polite, and constantly worried about his brother Nori, who was a bit of a thief, and Ori, the youngest of the company and also the most delicate looking of the bunch. Ori was a scholar who dreamed of restoring the library in the Lonely Mountain. Elwen hoped very much that he would see it done.

Balin and Dwalin were both warriors and had known Thorin his whole life. They had also been present for much of Fili and Kili's upbringing and took great care to make sure the brothers kept out of trouble. As best they could, anyhow.

Oin was a healer who couldn't hear very well, Gloin was the keeper of the coin, and Bifur…well, she didn't get to know Bifur very well due to the language barrier thanks to the axe in his dome.

All in all, the Dwarves made a great impression on her as the days passed, and the feeling was quite mutual. It warmed her heart to feel so accepted by a group of folks who were close.

 _They're one large family_ , she thought, _and they've accepted me into the fold._

On the sixth day of rain, everyone was growing a bit more cranky than usual. It turned out that Dwarves, Hobbit's, Wizard's, and girls named Elwen didn't appreciate being soaked to the bone for the better part of a week.

"Here, Mr. Gandalf," called Dori, "can't you do something about this deluge?"

"It is raining, Master Dwarf, and it will continue to rain until the rain is done," replied Gandalf almost cheerfully. "If you wish to change the weather of the world, you should find yourself another wizard."

"Are there any?" Bilbo asked curiously.

"What?" Gandalf asked, startled.

"Other wizards."

Gandalf tapped his chin, thinking.

"There are five of us," he said. "The greatest of our order is Saruman, the White. Then there are the two Blue Wizards; you know, I've quite forgotten their names."

"And who is the fifth?" Elwen asked.

"Well, that would be Radagast, the Brown."

"Is he a great Wizard, or is he…" asked Bilbo, "more like you?"

Gandalf looked affronted but ignored the remark.

"I think he's very great wizard, in his own way. He's a gentle soul who prefers the company of animals to others. He keeps a watchful eye over the vast forest lands to the East, and a good thing too, for always evil looks to find a foothold in this world."

It was late afternoon before the rain finally let up and Thorin called a halt and immediately began issuing commands.

"We'll camp here for the night," he said, his voice tired and gravely. "Kili, look after the ponies. Make sure you stay with them. Elwen," he said, turning toward her, "Fili will train you with swords today, if you're up to it."

She whirled on him and narrowed her eyes. She knew he meant it to be kind as they'd had a rough day of travel, but she didn't want special treatment.

"I'm fine," she snapped, and stomped off toward his nephew. She heard him grumble under his breath and then began barking out more orders.

"Oin, Gloin!" he called.

"Aye?" asked Oin.

"Get a fire going."

"Right you are."

"I think it would be wiser to move on," said Gandalf, casting his eyes about warily. "We could make for the Hidden Valley."

"I have told you already, I will not go near that place," Thorin all but snarled.

"Why not?" Gandalf demanded. "The Elves could help us. We could get food, rest, advice!"

"I do not need their advice," Thorin said defiantly.

" _I_ need their advice," Elwen spoke up.

"Quite right Elwen," Gandalf agreed. "Also, we have a map we cannot read. Lord Elrond could help us!"

Fili called for her to follow so they could begin her lesson for the day, but her feet would not follow him. _That name_ , she thought. _It sounds so familiar_. Elrond. Where had she heard that name before?

"Help?" Thorin asked, incredulous. "A dragon attacks Erebor, what help came from the Elves? Orcs plunder Moria, desecrate our sacred halls. The Elves looked on and did nothing. You ask me to seek out the very people who betrayed my grandfather? Who betrayed my father?"

Elwen winced. Thorin's hatred for the Elves ran so deep, she didn't know if that was something he would ever let go. _And I might very well be part of the race he hates the most._ What would happen then?

"You are neither of them," Gandalf hissed, annoyed. "I did not have Elwen give you that key, nor I the map, for you to hold on to the past."

"I did not know they were either of yours to keep," Thorin snapped.

Gandalf said not another word. He turned on his heels and stomped off angrily, leaving the company behind.

"Everything alright?" Bilbo asked.

"Gandalf, where are you going?" Elwen asked.

"To seek the company of the only one around here who's got any sense," grumbled the old Wizard.

"Who's that?" asked Bilbo.

"Myself, Mr. Baggins!" snapped Gandalf. "I've had enough of Dwarves for one day."

With a swish of his robes, Gandalf fled into the forest. Elwen sighed and Thorin urged Bofur to begin cooking their supper.

"Is he coming back?" Bilbo asked Elwen, and she shrugged uncertainly.

She gave Thorin a dirty look before turning to follow Fili into the forest.

 _Save us from this stubborn ass_ , Elwen thought. _His pride might very well be the death of us all_.

* * *

Thorin went through the motions of setting up camp, wondering how many times he and the Wizard were going to have the same argument. It went against every instinct he possessed, the idea of seeking the council of Elves. He would never forget the image of the King of the Woodland Realm turning his back on the Dwarves of Erebor during their greatest time of need. What did petty squabbles over treasure matter when lives were in danger and kingdoms destroyed? No matter their differences, had the tables been turned, Thror would have gone to the Elves aid. The madness had not completely erased his sense of honor.

 _The Elves do not know honor_ , he thought, seething. Their lives stretched on too long, too endlessly. Maybe they no longer understood the concept.

When camp was set and supper in the pot, Thorin began to grow curious. He wanted to see what Elwen looked like with a sword in hand. She'd said she felt as if she were born to hold a bow, and that made him wonder how she felt about steel.

He headed into the direction Fili and Elwen had walked, remembering the filthy look she'd given him before setting out. Fili had mouthed, "What did you do?" at Thorin accusingly, but he'd only shrugged.

In truth, he understood why Elwen was upset. She saw the Elves and their infinite time to gather knowledge as her only chance of finding out where she belonged and who she was. But Thorin could not march his people into the home of those who had betrayed them once already. He had to admit, however, that he did not relish in the idea of her being angry with him. Perhaps giving her sharp objects wasn't the best idea…

Thorin arrived at the clearing Elwen and Fili had found to train in. He hung back in the shadows of the trees and watched as his nephew and the girl circled one another.

Fili lunged and Elwen dodged expertly. He had not expected her to know how to stand and move her feet. Someone had taught her how to use her height as an advantage, and she was lightning quick. If Thorin had never seen her before, he would assume that his heir was fighting an Elf. The way she moved now was all instinct and grace. She was a completely different person with a blade in her hand.

 _She's beautiful,_ Thorin thought, almost unwillingly. He hated himself for finding her so attractive when she'd never looked more like his enemy.

He shook his head, trying to banish the damning thought. He felt his temper begin to slip. He'd rather feel angry than whatever it was he was feeling now, despite how nonsensical it seemed.

He shouldn't let some orphan girl distract him from the task at hand. Nothing, absolutely nothing, was more important than finding the Arkenstone. Elwen was simply a tool in which to use. After their task was over, he would be King and she would be nothing to him.

That's what he kept telling himself as he watched her dodge blow after blow.

It took longer than it should have considering Fili's prowess with swords, but he eventually put her on her backside. He'd distracted her with his left sword long enough to kick her feet out from under her. Bit of a cheap trick to resort to against a girl with allegedly inferior training.

"Enjoying the show, Thorin?" Elwen called across the clearing, climbing to her feet.

She was facing him, her free hand on her hip and a smirk on her lips. She'd caught up spying. Her hair was wet with sweat and her cheeks red with exertion. He had to remind himself yet again that she did not matter.

Fili took advantage of her distraction and planted a boot in her backside, causing her to fall forward. She hit the ground with an _oof_ , her chin scraping the grass.

"You bastard!" she shouted, jumping off the ground. "Only a coward attacks when their opponents back is turned!"

Fili laughed. "Ho ho! And you think Orc's are the honorable sort, do you?" he teased.

Elwen threw a punch, which Fili expertly dodged. She tried attacking twice more, but both times he danced away, once even managing to reach out and tug on her hair lightly.

Thorin shook his head and emerged from the trees, seeing the problem.

"Fili, go help your brother watch the ponies," said Thorin.

Fili grinned and tromped off in search of Kili. Elwen went to follow but Thorin blocked her way.

"You have trained a bit more than you let on," he said lowly, dangerously.

It took a moment before his meaning registered, but when it did, her eyes flashed with angry indignation.

"I told you, I feel different here," she ground out, "and I trained with swords back where I came from."

"Awfully convenient excuse, that," he spat.

Thorin knew Elwen wasn't trying to deceive him or the company, but he needed to get a rise out of her. Judging by the way her eyes narrowed into slits and her body began to shake, it was working.

"Perhaps you're a witch who has ensnared us all in a spell." This sounded absolutely ridiculous to his own ears, but her face was turning a brilliant shade of red. It wasn't enough. He needed to push her temper to its limit, so he bent and whispered, "You're probably the daughter of some harlot,

unwanted by your own people. Too useless to-"

Her strike was so fast, Thorin didn't have time to dodge; he took the blow full on the mouth. He tasted blood and felt his lip split.

He was ready for the second blow, however, and dodged it easily. She dropped the sword and lunged again, spurned on at the sight of blood on his face, confident that if she'd hit him once, she could do it again.

He dodged her once, twice, and the third time he caught her small, fragile fist with his left hand, planted his foot behind her, used his right hand to grip her shoulder, and shoved.

She went down harder than he intended, her head smacking against the ground. She tried to stand up, but he placed a boot squarely on her chest, but not hard enough to damage her. He was well aware he could easily cave her chest in, and she needed to be aware of this as well.

Elwen was looking up at him in shock and lingering anger. When the first sign of fear crept into her eyes, Thorin had to fight back the urge to move his foot and bend down to her.

"You have instinct, but you lack discipline and control." He paused, looking at her. The fear was gone now, but the hate and disgust that replaced it made his stomach lurch.

"Do you think an enemy could not spot your weakness? That they would not exploit the fact that when you are angered, you abandon all reason? An Orc will do worse than call your mother a whore and knock you off your feet."

Thorin had to swallow the bile creeping up his throat as her eyes filled with tears she was trying to hold back. The struggle was in vain, so she turned away.

"Get away from me," she half screamed, half sobbed. She pushed at his boot with all of her strength before he finally lifted it.

He staggered, barely keeping his balance. She scrambled backward toward a tall oak as if he were venomous. He looked at her in horror. Her face was dirty and her arms were scraped. He hadn't realized he'd shoved her into rock filled dirt.

"Elwen…" He took a step toward her but she pressed herself closer to a tree.

"Go!" she cried. "Just go!"

And like a coward, he fled.

* * *

It was past dark before she picked herself up out of the dirt and stumbled her way back to the camp, surprised she managed to find her way back at all.

She didn't want to think about it, wished there was some spell Gandalf could use to erase the memory of Thorin's cruel words. The worst part of it was the fact that she knew he wasn't actually a cruel person. He'd been trying to prove a point, she understood that, but it didn't make her hate him any less in that moment.

She had been too embarrassed to go back to camp right away. Ashamed of her lack of control, of the blood and dirt on her face. God, she must have looked feral. So she'd propped herself against the tree and watched the sun sink below the trees and give way to night.

She thought about the events of the past few days and how much her life had suddenly changed. Just seven (Was it seven? Oh hell, who knows?) days before she'd been living in a dodgy flat waiting for her life to begin. Now here she was, on a quest to find a freaking dragon with relative strangers in a land that should feel as foreign to her as the moon. But it didn't.

The longer she was there, the more certain Elwen became that Middle-earth was her home. It was like some long lingering spell was slowly being lifted and every day she grew stronger and felt surer of herself. Sparring with Fili, and even Thorin, had felt like she'd suddenly remembered how to breathe after a long period of being under water.

As soon as the blade had touched her hand, Elwen felt as though someone had roused her from a deep sleep. Her instincts awoke and her muscles moved of their own accord. Her body was remembering things her mind could not.

It felt like she had become someone else completely, even for only a moment, and it had frightened her. It scared her enough to make her hesitate and be bested. That had fueled the rage. _Will there come a time when I can't remember who I am?_ She wondered. _Will I like who I become?_

Elwen wasn't going to find any answers sitting on her very tender ass, so she stood up with a groan. Her muscles had already stiffened. She was going to be miserably sore come sunrise.

When she arrived back at camp, Bofur and Bombur were finishing up dinner while everyone else sat around the fire or set about finding a spot to sleep.

Upon seeing her, a few of the Dwarves began to cheer. Elwen stopped short and looked around, confused. Then she spied Oin looking at a very annoyed Thorin, insisting he rub a bit of salve on his lip.

"You gave as good as you got, lass!" Bofur exclaimed proudly, as if he'd been the one training her.

Thorin lifted his head and gazed at Elwen, his eyes full of regret and asking pardon, but she just shook her head. She wanted away from his piercing looks and sorrowful expression. She didn't want the others cheering for her because she had made the great Thorin Oakenshield bleed. She didn't want to give as good as she got, because what she got had been unpleasant.

She didn't understand Thorin. Why did he have to prove his point by trying to hurt her in the worst way possible? To make the lesson unforgettable? Mission accomplished, asshole.

What upset her the most, she realized, was the fact that she'd always wondered about her parentage. Was it possible her parents had been less than savory characters? Could she have been given up because she was some great family shame?

 _Damn you, Thorin Oakenshield,_ she thought bitterly.

Elwen settled next to Bilbo after refusing a bowl of soup from Bofur. She was too worked up to eat.

"He's been a long time," Bilbo said anxiously.

"Who?" asked Elwen.

"Gandalf."

"He's a wizard!" interjected Bofur. "He does as he chooses. Here, you two do us a favor. Take this to the lads."

Elwen pushed herself to her feet with a groan and Bilbo followed suit, also sore from his day of riding. Bofur handed them each a bowl to take to Fili and Kili. Bombur waddled over and tried to take some more from the pot but Bofur slapped his hand.

"Stop it, you've had plenty."

Elwen and Bilbo made their way through the dark to the place where Fili and Kili were watching the ponies. They were staring out into the woods, their brows furrowed. When Elwen tried to hand Kili his supper, he waved her off.

"What's the matter?" she asked.

"We're supposed to be looking out for the ponies," replied Kili quickly and nervously.

"Only we've encountered a slight problem," said Fili.

"What's the problem?" she asked, growing tense. _This can't be good._

"We had sixteen," Kili said.

"Now there's fourteen," said Fili.

They examined the group of ponies.

"Daisy and Bungo are missing," Kili called out, weaving between the ponies, taking stock.

"Well," Bilbo said, trailing after Kili and laughing nervously. "That's not good. That is not good at all. Shouldn't we tell Thorin?"

"Uh, no," Fili shook his head. "Let's not worry him. As our official burglar, we thought you might like to look into it."

Elwen gave Fili a look. They just didn't want Thorin to kick their asses, the bloody idiots.

To Bilbo's credit, he _did_ have a look around. Elwen did as well and spotted some overturned trees.

"Well, uh…" Bilbo stammered, looking at Elwen for comfort and finding none. Her eyes were wide as saucers. "Look…some-something big uprooted these trees."

"That was our thinking," said Kili.

"Something very big, and possibly quite dangerous," Bilbo added, clearly thinking neither of the young Dwarves truly understood the situation.

"Hey!" Fili called. "There's a light. Over here! Stay down."

The four crept through the forest toward the light. They ducked behind a log when they heard harsh laughter and found that the source of the light was a fire.

"What is it?" Elwen asked.

"Trolls," Kili replied angrily.

Trolls!? What the bloody…Gandalf had mentioned trolls very briefly in his overview of the world, but he'd failed to mention how to fight them off if she were to stumble upon them in the woods. Middle-earth was a seriously hazardous place to go adventuring in.

Fili and Kili dashed toward the fire, staying low. Elwen and Bilbo followed. She slapped Bilbo's hand when he tried to bring the soup with them. They hid behind a tree, and she spotted a massive mountain troll stomping toward the fire, a pony beneath each arm.

"He's got Myrtle and Minty!" Bilbo whispered, alarmed. "I think they're going to eat them! We have to do something!"

"Yes, you should," said Kili. "Mountain trolls are slow and stupid, and you're so small."

Bilbo looked sick and Elwen cut Kili a nasty glare.

"N—n—no," Bilbo stammered, and Elwen patted him on the shoulder.

"They'll never see you," Kili pointed out, trying to sound encouraging.

"No, no, no…" Bilbo continued, shaking his finger at Kili, trying to be stern.

"It's perfectly safe!" Kili promised. "We'll be right behind you."

"If you run into trouble, hoot twice like a barn owl, once like a brown owl," suggested Fili. This time Elwen did smack him in the back of the head.

The brothers gave Bilbo a little push toward the fire and Fili, Kili, and Elwen slipped out of sight. Elwen could hear Bilbo muttering Fili's directions to himself. She felt so guilty when he turned back and couldn't see them, but she didn't call out. She had to admit, she wanted to see if Bilbo had it in him to release the horses. If he couldn't sneak around a few dim mountain trolls, how could he possibly steal a precious stone from a dragon?

"I don't think we should let him do this alone," Elwen said, nervous as she watched the Hobbit attempt to sneak over to the horses.

"He'll be fine," said Kili.

"He's our burglar after all," said Fili.

Elwen wasn't sure who they were trying to convince, her or themselves.

"Mutton yesterday, mutton today, and blimey if it don't look like mutton again tomorrow." The sound of the trolls' voices carried through the trees.

"They can bloody talk?" Elwen whispered harshly.

"Don't they have trolls where you come from?" Kili asked, looking at her strangely.

"Quit yer' griping," replied another troll. "These ain't sheep. These is West Nags!"

"Oh, I don't like 'orse. I never ave'. Not enough fat on them."

"Well, it's better than leathery old farmer. All skin and bone, he was. I'm still picking bits of them out of me teeth."

Elwen cast Fili and Kili a dark look. "They ate the damn _farmers_!" She had to try very hard not to scream. "Motherfu-, okay, go get Thorin and the others. I'll go after Bilbo. You'd better pray nothing happens to him!"

She snatched one of the knives Fili kept sheathed in his bracers and raced away before either brother could stop her.

The closer Elwen crept toward the trolls, the worse the odor became. It smelled like a mixture of dead, rotting flesh and her landlord after he'd eaten pickled herring. She made her way to where Bilbo was worrying at the rope that was keeping the ponies pinned.

"Come on," she whispered, grabbing Bilbo's coat sleeve. "We have to get out of here. _They ate the farmers_!"

"I know they ate the farmers," Bilbo whispered back, furiously tugging at the ropes. "That's why we have to get the ponies. We can't let them be supper!"

"Better them than us, you dolt!"

"Just give me one minute longer," Bilbo pleaded. "I've almost got it. Yes, here-AHHHHH!"

Elwen bit back a scream and scrambled away as a giant hand made a fist around Bilbo and hauled him into the air. A troll pulled Bilbo up to his nose as if he were a handkerchief and gave a powerful sneeze. When he focused on what was in his hand, he let out a shout.

"ARRRGGGHHHH! Blimey! Bert! Bert!" shouted the troll to one of his other companions. _A troll named Bert_ , Elwen thought. _Sure, why not?_ "Look what's come out of me ooter'! It's got arms and legs and everything."

The other two trolls gathered around.

"What is it?" asked one.

"I don't know," replied the troll holding Bilbo, "but I don't like the way it wriggles around!"

The troll flung Bilbo to the ground, who landed like a heavy stone.

Elwen looked frantically around, hoping for a sign of the Dwarves. The trolls were trying to decide if he was a large squirrel.

"I'm a burglar-uh, Hobbit!" Bilbo stammered.

"A Burgla-Hobbit?"

They began discussing if they could cook him and Bilbo tried making a run for it. They surrounded him, taunting him, saying he wouldn't even be a mouthful once they skinned and boned him. Elwen's mouth went dry.

"Come here you little…" the largest of the trolls growled, grasping Bilbo by the feet. "Gotcha! Are there anymore of you little fellas iding' where you shouldn't?"

"No," Bilbo lied, doing his best not to look toward where Elwen was crouched.

"He's lying!"

"No I'm not!" shouted the Hobbit.

"Hold his toes over the fire. Make him squeal!"

Elwen heard rustling and grunting come from the trees. Suddenly, Kili burst from the bushes with a great shout, swinging his sword against one of the troll's legs, bringing it to the ground.

"Drop him!" screamed Kili.

"You what?" said the largest troll.

"I said," Kili twirled his sword, "drop him."

The troll's eyes narrowed. It growled, then tossed Bilbo like a rag doll. He hit Kili with a thud, sending them both sprawling in the dirt. Elwen sprinted toward the pair, weaving and winding herself through the trolls legs just as Thorin and the rest of the company came charging in from the tree line with a great battle cry.

Chaos ensured as the Dwarves began swinging axes and swords and hammers at any part of the trolls they could reach. At first, Elwen watched in wonder while also trying not to get trampled on by stampeding trolls.

All of the Dwarves were trained in combat, even Ori, who was wielding his sling shot with incredible precision. It didn't take long for Kili to jump up and join the fight, sliding through one of the trolls legs to come up on its front and stab it in the belly. It looked as though Dori got one of the trolls right up his rear with a sword, bringing it to its knees. Dwalin was there, knocking teeth from the beast's mouth with a swing of his axe.

But the one she couldn't take her eyes off was Thorin. He was an impressive fighter, his fearlessness more impressive than Fili's acrobatics or Dwalin's devastating swings. He ran at his opponent, his face full of fury, ready to fight to his last breath. _He fights like a king_ , she thought.

One of the trolls wandered a little too close for comfort, so Elwen lifted Fili's knife and drove it into the top of its foot as hard as she possible could. It roared in a way that reminded her of a lion and began to stamp around, trying its level best to squish her. She rolled out of the way and found herself being hauled to her feet and pulled backward by none other than the King himself.

"Are you alright?" Thorin shouted over the din.

She stood up and ripped herself out of his grip.

"I'm fine!" she yelled back.

They were turning back to the trolls when she heard Bilbo scream.

The Halfling was being held spread eagle between two of the trolls, both gripping his arms and legs, posed to tear him apart.

"Bilbo!" Kili shouted. He and Elwen both lunged forward, but Thorin threw his arms out to stop their advance with a sharp, "Don't!"

"Lay down your arms," snarled a troll, "or we'll rip his off."

Thorin glared up at Bilbo in exasperation. Elwen elbowed him, giving him the stink eye.

"We can't let them kill him, Thorin," she whispered.

For a moment, it seemed he was truly weighing the consequences of keeping his sword and the expendability of their burglar, but in the end, the King under the Mountain slammed the point of his sword into the ground, and the rest of the company followed suit. Even though Elwen was pretty sure she was about to become a meat pie for some dodgy trolls, she hated Thorin a little bit less in that moment.

Much to Elwen's relief, the trolls didn't seem hungry enough to dig right in, as it were. Instead they decided to cook them five at a time, starting with Dwalin, Bofur, Dori, Ori, and Nori. The rest of the company were tied up in sacks and piled together on the ground while the other five were tied to a spit, being spun slowly by a troll named Tom.

"Don't bother cooking them. Let's just sit on them and squash them into jelly," suggested the one called William.

"They should be sautéed and grilled with a sprinkle of sage," replied Bert.

Elwen should probably be surprised to hear a troll use words like "sautéed" and phrases like "sprinkle of sage" but she wasn't. She was desperately thinking about how she was going to wiggle out of the burlap sack she was synched tightly within.

"Untie me, mister!" shouted Bombur.

"Eat someone your own size!" added Gloin.

"Never mind about the seasoning," said Tom as he turned the spit. "We ain't got all night! Dawn ain't far away. Let's get a move on! I don't fancy being turned to stone."

Bilbo and Elwen shared a look and she nodded. She wasn't entirely sure how close they were to dawn, but if they could just buy some time…

"Wait!" Bilbo shouted. "You are making a _terrible_ mistake!"

"You can't reason with them, they're half-wits!" Dori called as he came around on the spit.

"Half-wits?" asked Bofur. "What does that make us?"

Bilbo and Elwen wriggled around until they both managed to get on their feet.

"Um, I meant with the, uh, with, uh-" Bilbo stammered.

"With the seasoning!" Elwen finished. Bilbo nodded his thanks.

"What about the seasoning?" asked Bert.

"Well, have you smelt them?" Bilbo asked the trolls, who were now giving the duo their full attention. Elwen hoped neither she nor Bilbo looked particularly appetizing. "You're going to need something stronger than sage before you plate this lot up."

The dwarves exploded. Their rage and indignation was palatable, and it was clear they were too thick to realize Bilbo and Elwen were simply vying for time. Gloin called them traitors and Bombur tried to kick Bilbo in the leg.

"What do you know about cooking Dwarf?" asked William dismissively.

"Shut up," said Bert. "Let the, uh, flurgaburburrahobbit talk."

"Uh, th—the secret to cooking Dwarf is, um-"

"Yes?" urged Bert. "Come on."

"It's uh-"

"Tell us the secret!"

"Yes-yes, I'm telling you, the secret is…"

"To skin them first!" shouted Elwen.

Thorin gave a great shout and the rest of the company began to struggle in their sacks, desperately trying to escape. The looks they were giving her were positively murderous. Fili was inching toward her in his sack, trying to bite her ankles. Elwen kicked him in the head.

"Tom, get me filleting knife."

"I'll skin you, you little-" growled Gloin.

"I won't forget that!" Dwalin shouted, pointing at her from the spit. "I won't forget it!"

"What a load of rubbish!" said William. "I've eaten plenty with their skins on. Scuff them, I say, boots and all."

Elwen looked at Bilbo, feeling a little panicked. When she looked back to the trolls, she saw a flash of grey moving through the trees. She elbowed Bilbo and looked at him. He nodded, having seen the same thing.

"He's right!" said Tom the troll. "Nothing wrong with a bit of raw Dwarf!" He reached a giant hand, grabbed Bombur, and dangled him upside down over his mouth. "Nice and crunchy!"

"Oh no, not that one! He's infected!" Elwen said a little too desperately.

"Huh?" Tom squeaked.

"You what?" asked William.

"Yeah," confirmed Bilbo. "He's got worms in his…tubes."

Tom slung Bombur back onto the pile of Dwarves, who grunted and groaned in pain.

"In-in fact they all have," said Bilbo. "They're infested with parasites. It's a terrible business, I wouldn't risk it, I really wouldn't." He shook his head gravely and Elwen had to give it to him; he wasn't a bad little actor.

"Parasites?" yelled Oin. "Did he say parasites!?"

"Yes he did! We don't have parasites!" Kili spat. "You have parasites!"

Soon the whole group was announcing loudly and angrily that they did not, indeed, have parasites. Elwen and Bilbo both rolled their eyes. If the trolls didn't eat everyone, Elwen was going to throttle the lot of them. She kicked Fili again, just because.

She turned around and gave Thorin a meaningful look. Realization dawned in his eyes and he kicked Kili hard in the back, causing him to shout. The entire group became quiet, finally catching on to the act.

"I've got parasites as big as my arm!" proclaimed Oin.

"Mine are the biggest parasites," claimed Kili, "I've got huge parasites!"

A chorus of "We're riddled!" and "In our tubes!" came shouted from the rest of the company, but it seemed a little much for the suspicious William.

"What would you have us do then?" asked the troll. "Let em' all go?"

"Well…" began Elwen.

William poked Elwen hard enough to make her shout. She was a little worried he'd broken one of her ribs.

"You think I don't know what you're up to? This little ferret is taking us for fools!"

"Ferret!" Elwen exclaimed indignantly, giving the creature an offended glare.

Just as the trolls rounded on her, a lone figure appeared on top of a boulder. Tall, clad in grey, with a long wooden staff poised and ready to strike.

"Gandalf!" Elwen shouted.

"The dawn will take you all!" Gandalf's voice echoed and trilled with power. Elwen sat down in the dirt, relief flooding every inch of her being.

"Who's that?" asked William.

"No idea," replied Bert .

"Can we eat im' too?" asked Tom.

Gandalf brought his staff down hard on the rock, splitting it in half. Light came pouring through the gap as the sun climbed into the sky, saving them all.

The trolls' began writhing and screaming in pain and their skin hissed and popped. Elwen looked on, a bit horrified. Within seconds, three large stone troll statues decorated the clearing. All of the Dwarves began to cheer, even the ones on the spit who were, technically, still roasting.

"Oh, get your foot out of my back!" complained Dwalin.

Elwen laughed and the rest of the company began to cut their way free.

When they was loosed from their sacks, Elwen and Bilbo sat down on the ground and gave each other a hard, knowing look. How on earth were they expected to survive a dragon with a bunch of stupid, stubborn Dwarves?

 **Authors Note: Hello all! Here's another chapter for your Hobbit loving hearts. I've been working swiftly on the rest of the story. I have a mate who has been with me since I began this story a while back. I started it as a hobby when I was going through a rough time, and they've been reading it since the start. They're very adamant that I finish it sometime in the next century, so I'm trying!**

 **Thank you to all who have reviewed and added it to their favorites and are following the updates. You're all making the effort worth it!**

 **A reviewer mentioned something I thought might be important to address. I understand a lot of writers have this habit of making Fili and Kili more immature than they have to be, and I agree. I feel like they're a little more carefree in the first movie until later on, and as the story progresses, they become a little more well rounded. I promise that I WILL have them developing more as the story continues. Thank you to Pallysdeeks for bringing this up and offering amazing constructive criticism on the subject!**

 **Alright lads and lassies, please let me know what you think of this chapter. I very much hope you continue to support the story. Please feel free to drop a few lines in a review. Really helps hearing from readers and I'm dying to know what you all think about the trajectory of the story!**

 **Cheers - Líadan**


	7. Chapter 7 Radagast and the Orc Pack

Chapter 7 **Radagast and the Orc Pack**

The company were all more than a little relieved to have survived the night and clamber back into their armor and gather weapons once more. Everyone was in such high spirits, Thorin could not help but smile. He watched as his eldest nephew helped Elwen strap a sheath near the bracer she wore on her left arm, saying she needed a weapon. He cursed himself for not thinking of it first.

Gandalf circled the now stone trolls, whacking it on its snout with his staff.

"Where did you go, if I may ask?" said Thorin.

"To look ahead," Gandalf replied simply.

"What brought you back?"

"Looking behind," Gandalf grinned, gazing out over the company. "Still, they are in one piece."

"No thanks to your burglar," Thorin said, annoyed.

"He and Elwen had the nous to play for time." Gandalf gave Thorin an even stare. "None of the rest of you thought of that."

Thorin inclined his head, fighting back the urge to smile. Gandalf had him there. Together they gave the statues another look.

"They must have come down from the Ettenmoors," Gandalf said sagely.

"Since when do mountain trolls venture this far south?"

"Oh, not for an age." Gandalf's voice grew heavy and grave. "Not since a darker power ruled these lands."

Thorin felt a shiver ripple through him, for he knew of what power Gandalf spoke of.

"They could not have moved in daylight," Gandalf said, pondering aloud.

"There must be a cave nearby."

Once everyone was ready, the company began to search for the cave, finding it quickly. Thorin, Gandalf, Bilbo, Elwen, Dwalin, Nori, Bofur, and Gloin all entered the cave. The stench hit him so hard he had to bite back the urge to vomit.

"Oh, what's that stench?" cried Nori. Everyone was coughing and retching at the foul odor.

"This…smells…" Elwen gasped, "like…dirty…crotch."

"It is a troll hoard," Gandalf declared, as if that should be obvious. "Be careful what you touch."

It did not take long for Bofur and the rest to hone in on the treasure strewn about the floor of the cave, but Thorin was more interested in the weapons he found covered in cobwebs. He picked up two swords, handing one to Gandalf.

"These swords were not made by any troll," Thorin said, examining the remaining curved, silver blade in his hands.

"Nor were they made by any smith among men." Gandalf drew the sword out of its sheath a few inches. "These were forged in Gondolin by the High Elves of the First Age."

Revulsion pulsed its way through Thorin. The last thing he wanted was to wield an Elvish blade, but just as he was about to throw it down, Gandalf snapped, "You could not find a finer blade!"

Thorin reluctantly kept hold of the sword and drew it slightly from its sheath. He could tell by a glance that it was sharp despite not having been honed for Mahal knew how long. There was no denying the truth of Gandalf's words.

"Let's get out of this foul place. Come on, let's go!" Thorin barked.

Outside of the cave, Thorin spied Gandalf handing a small Elvish dagger to their burglar. To the Halfling, it was as large as a sword.

"Here," said Gandalf, "this is about your size."

Bilbo examined the blade and quickly shook his head. Thorin rolled his eyes. The Hobbit had no idea how to wield a sword, of course.

"I can't take this," said the Halfling.

"The blade is of Elvish make," Gandalf explained, "which means it will glow blue when orcs or goblins are nearby."

"I have never used a sword in my life."

"And I hope you never have to," said Gandalf honestly, "but if you do, remember this: true courage is about knowing not when to take a life, but when to spare one."

Thorin smiled at the Wizard's wise council, and looked around for Elwen. She had plopped down on the ground next to a tree. She'd lifted her tunic to examine her torso, pressing on her ribs and wincing.

"Are you alright?" he asked, kneeling in front of her. She dropped her tunic and tried to wiggle away from him, but he saw the pain in her eyes. "Stop! I know you are angry with me but do not be foolish," he chastised. "Do you wish me to call Oin?"

Elwen glanced over at the elder Dwarf, who was holding his trumpet out trying to hear what Gloin was saying. She looked back to Thorin and shook her head.

"One of those blasted monsters jabbed me in the ribs, and it hurts," she admitted. "I'm hoping it's just bruised but…" She lifted her tunic and exposed the skin of her abdomen.

The sight of her smooth, pale skin sent his stomach unexpectedly into knots. He cursed himself silently, feeling like a fool. No woman, for as long as he could remember, had ever affected him in such a way, especially not a human. He shook himself, refusing to let her see him so flummoxed.

He spied the beginning of a bruise on her ribs. He reached out, looking at her for permission. She gave it in form of a nod, and he laid a large hand over her ribs. She shivered.

"Did that hurt?" he asked, pulling back.

Elwen would not meet his eyes and shook her head. "Your hand is warm, that's all," she muttered, her cheeks going pink.

Thorin couldn't help but grin a bit. For the moment, she had forgotten to be angry with him, and he couldn't help but be a little relieved that perhaps he was not the only one affected by a bit of skin and a light touch.

He prodded the bruises a bit, and she winced. She was breathing fine, and she'd walked normally from the clearing the trolls had turned to stone to their cave.

"They are not broken, but bruised, maybe badly." he said with sympathy. "You will be uncomfortable, but you're not in any danger I don't think. Oin should probably have a look. You shouldn't over exert yourself, however. It might do further damage."

Elwen nodded and muttered her thanks, jerking down her tunic once more.

"You did well with the trolls," Thorin said, sitting next to her. She gave him a sour look that told him she had remembered to hate him. "You kept your temper and your wits about you."

"Did you tell Bilbo he did well?" She was looking straight ahead, refusing to meet his eyes.

"If it weren't for the Halfling, you'd never have been in danger," he said irritably, trying very hard to ignore the fact that it did actually bothered him a great deal that her life had been in jeopardy.

"Ha!" she scoffed. "If it weren't for your nephews, Bilbo wouldn't have had to go after the ponies!"

Elwen stood, wincing, and sped off toward Gandalf and Bilbo. Thorin tried scrambling after her, but then he heard it; the sound something moving toward them, and fast!

"Something's coming!" he shouted, leaping to his feet and unsheathing his newly found Elven blade.

"Stay together!" called Gandalf, also unsheathing his sword. "Hurry now. Arm yourselves!"

Thorin drew closer to Elwen, putting himself between her and the approaching stranger. She had Fili's knife in her hand and moved to stand beside him. He was impressed, he admitted; she was injured but would not abide letting someone stand between her and danger.

Suddenly something burst over a hill and through the brush. Thorin was taken aback by the sight of a deranged looking man in brown robes and a tall, brown hat astride a slay pulled by…were those…

"Rabbits?" Elwen said, pulling herself out of her fighting stance and placing her hands on her hips. "Are those rabbits?"

"Thieves!" cried the man, pulling his sled up short in front of them. They were indeed rabbits. Thorin lowered his sword. "Fire! Murder!"

Gandalf looked relieved and sheathed his sword as well.

"Radagast!" said the Wizard. "Radagast the Brown."

* * *

Radagast and Gandalf split apart from the others to talk about whatever Wizard's talk about while the rest of the company loitered around and rested while they could. Fili and Kili decided that while they had a little down time, they should train with Elwen for a bit. Thorin protested, but Elwen shrugged him off.

"I have bruised ribs, not a flesh wound. I'm fine," she snapped and he sighed.

She knew she was probably being unfair, and a little more than stubborn, but she couldn't help it. Thorin made her feel strange; one minute she wanted to stab him in the foot, and the next she wanted to reach out and run her fingers through his raven hair.

Elwen didn't have a lot of experience with the male gender in general. When you're raised in a group home for orphans, dating is usually pretty difficult. She didn't want to explain why she didn't have a home to be picked up at or parents to meet, so she just stayed away from the dating thing in general. In college it was easier, but she was so busy with studying and working double shifts to pay rent that romance was still not a priority.

 _And it shouldn't be a priority now_ , she thought, scolding herself. _Especially not with Thorin._

She halfway listened to Kili as he and his brother discussed hand to hand combat. She didn't really need training in this area, so she opted to watch them wrestle about instead and give her aching ribs a break. The rest of the company was yelling out tips at the pair and taking wages as to who would be the victor (her money was on Kili) so it left her ample time to clear her mind and gather her thoughts.

If Elwen was going to do something ridiculous like having a crush on a Dwarf, it would make much more sense for it to be Kili, or even Fili. She was afraid to ask how old Thorin was seeing as Kili was in his late seventies and Fili only a few years older. She didn't really understand the aging process of Dwarves, but she knew enough to know that Thorin was probably way too old for her.

 _And he's a king, for crying out loud,_ she thought.

In every story she'd ever read, king's didn't marry commoners. They married nobles and princesses and people that mattered. Not orphans. Not girls who didn't even know where they came from.

If this quest was successful, Thorin would have a kingdom to run and people to look after. He would probably send her packing as soon as they reached the mountain and got back the Arkenstone. What a stupid thing it would be, to have feelings for Thorin Oakenshield...and yet…

Suddenly the air was pierced by a fierce, high pitched howl in the distance. Everyone went silent, and the hair on the back of Elwen's neck stood up. She reached for the knife Fili had given her.

"Was that a wolf?" Bilbo asked nervously. "Are there-are there wolves out there?"

"Wolves?" said Bofur, gripping his axe. "No, that is not a wolf."

Elwen heard a noise above them. She turned in time to see a wolf-like creature scrambling down the rocky crag to their backs. It leapt down from an incredible height and landed nearly on top of Dori. Thorin quickly slammed the blade of his sword down upon the beast's neck.

The creature was as large as a pony, muscles rippling under course, dark fur. Its head was roughly shaped like a wolf, but its teeth were like disgusting yellow knives, and it had a foul, evil feel about it.

"Thorin!" Elwen screamed when she saw another one creeping its way down behind him. "Kili, your bow!"

Kili brought down the creature with an arrow, but it didn't die. Dwalin was there, axe at the ready, and cleaved its skull in two.

"Warg scouts!" Thorin growled, pulling the blade from the neck of the beast he had felled. "Which means an Orc pack is not far behind."

"Orc pack?" Bilbo asked, incredulous.

"Who did you tell about your quest, beyond your kin?" Gandalf demanded of Thorin.

"No one!" he exclaimed.

"Who did you tell?!" Gandalf shouted.

"No one, I swear!" Thorin glanced around, bewildered. "What in Durin's name is going on?"

Elwen didn't need to hear Gandalf's answer. The sinking feeling in her stomach told her all she needed to know.

"You are being hunted." The Wizard looked grave.

"We have to get out of here," said Dwalin, keeping his axe firmly in his grasp.

"We can't," said Ori from a ridge above them. "We have no ponies; they bolted."

There was much chatter going around, but Elwen didn't join in the panic mutterings. She looked up and found Thorin's gaze on her. The look on his face, the story his eyes told, made her gut twist in a way that was becoming familiar when she looked upon him. He gripped his sword, and she gripped her knife, and no words were needed.

"I'll draw them off," said the strange Radagast the Brown.

"These are Gundabad Wargs, they will outrun you!" reasoned Gandalf.

"These are Rhosgobel Rabbits!" proclaimed Radagast, a wild glint in his eye. "I'd like to see them try."

* * *

Gandalf lead the company out of the trees and onto a rocky plain. Thorin was wracking his brain, trying to figure out why someone would be hunting him and his men. It reminded him of the night he met Gandalf in Bree.

Thorin had been traveling, searching for his father after rumors had reached him that Thrain had been seen wandering the wilds. He'd stopped in the Prancing Pony, looking for food and shelter on a stormy night, and instead found a wandering Wizard.

Gandalf had produced two scraps of paper that changed the course of Thorin's life. One was a map leading to the Lonely Mountain, and another was a piece of cloth with an offer of reward for Thorin Oakenshield's head.

 _I truly am being hunted, and now I have brought everyone into peril,_ thought Thorin, glancing sideways at Elwen, as Radagast the Brown burst from forest on the back of his slay, screaming, "Come and get me! Ha Ha!"

Elwen snorted next to him. "He looks like mad version of Santa."

"What's a santa?" asked Kili.

"Come on!" said Gandalf, leading them out into the open.

They ran.

* * *

Watching as Radagast the Brown lead the orcs across the plain on a slay pulled my rabbits was certainly a sight to behold. _My vision of Santa Clause is forever ruined_ , she thought. She realized she was bordering on hysterical, but wouldn't anyone be if they were being chased by a pack of terrifying evil creatures riding on the back of mutant wolves?

She did her best to focus that manic energy into running. The landscape dipped and curved with hills and the ground was rocky and treacherous. She quickly came to realize that she was the fastest and swiftest runner of the group and found herself having to slow down in order not to outstrip her companions. She and Thorin lead the group, stopping short when Radagast brought the Orc's too close for comfort.

"Stay together," urged Gandalf.

"Move!" said Thorin, motioning with sword, urging them onward.

As they ran, Radagast wove between rocks, doing his best to drive the pack away from Dwarves and companions. Thorin stopped so suddenly, Elwen ran right into his back. She gripped his shoulders to keep herself from falling. Her ribs were throbbing and her heart was racing.

"Ori, no!" Thorin cried, grabbing the young Dwarf and yanking him backwards.

"Come on!" said Gandalf. "Quick!"

Elwen and Thorin hung back with Gandalf as the rest of the company pressed forward.

"Where are you leading us?" Thorin asked lowly.

Gandalf gave Elwen a look and ignored the question, instead running past them. Thorin gripped his axe in one hand and sword in the other and gave Elwen a dark look. She shrugged and ran after Gandalf.

She didn't give a damn where the old man was leading them, as long as it was Orc free and they could halt this desperate cross-country sprint.

They once again spotted the Orcs too close for comfort. They jolted to a stop and tried to shelter themselves behind a large boulder, pressed closely against it so as to not be seen.

Elwen wrapped an arm around her middle and bit her lip. Black spots were flashing in front of her eyes and she knew now would not be the most convenient time to pass out.

She felt a hand rest on the back of her head and smooth her hair. She looked up and saw that Kili had moved beside her and was looking at her with concern. She shook her head and tried to smile, but it came off more as a grimace.

Rock shifted above them. She jerked so suddenly that a sharp pain ripped through her, but she didn't cry out. The heavy, labored breathing of a Warg could be heard just over the top of her head. It must have caught their scent on the air. Elwen heard the unmistakable hiss of steel being drawn.

As the Warg and its rider crept ever closer, Thorin gave Kili a look and nodded. Kili took a deep breath and knocked an arrow. Quick and swift, Kili stepped out and let off two shots in quick succession. The Warg roared as it and the Orc tumbled to the ground to be immediately set upon by the Dwarves. Elwen froze. The gruesome creatures shrieked and roared as they died and the rocks made it all too easy for their dying screams to echo out across the hills.

Elwen heard one of the Orcs in the distance call out in its foul language. For just a second, she felt as if she almost understood what the creature was saying. _Just like in my dream with Azog._

"The Dwarf-scum are over there! After them!"

She didn't have time to think about why she might understand such a foul creature. Gandalf was telling them to move, and soon she found herself running for her life. There was no time to think. She ignored her screaming side as Gandalf lead them over hills and across the plains.

It didn't take long for the pack to overrun them. Soon the company was surrounded, all readying their weapons and preparing to do battle. There were too many. There was no way they could defeat so many mounted foes. Elwen unsheathed and palmed her knife and stood back to back with Thorin. If she was going to die, she was sure as hell taking as many of these craggy faced bastards with her as she could.

"There's more coming!" Kili shouted.

Thorin surveyed their situation before shouting to his nephew, telling him to shoot them.

"We're surrounded!" Fili cried. Kili shot several Orcs off their mounts. "Where's Gandalf?"

"He's abandoned us!" Dwalin said.

"No!" Elwen shouted, but no one was listening.

If Gandalf had disappeared, he'd had a reason. But she couldn't think about that. The pack was closing in. Ori let a stone fly from his slingshot, hitting a Warg between the eyes, but it did not slow its advance. Its Orc rider let out a cruel laugh.

Thorin raised the Elven blade at the ready and cried, "Hold your ground!"

Elwen raised her knife. She dared a quick look at Thorin. He knew the odds weren't in their favor, but he was brave in the face of his enemy. It made her feel much braver than she ought.

"No matter what happens," she said to the King Under the Mountain, "I don't regret coming with you. It will be an honor dying at your side, Thorin Oakenshield."

She didn't know what possessed her to say something that emotional at a time like this, but her mouth had worked of its own accord.

Thorin looked at her with wide, honest eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a word, Elwen heard Gandalf cry out behind them. He said four of the sweetest words she had ever heard in her entire life.

"This way, you fools!"

She and Thorin whirled around in time to see Gandalf disappear behind an outcropping of rock. They looked at each other, she shrugged, and Thorin called out for the company to follow.

Thorin jumped on top of the rock that shielded what appeared to be a crack that lead into a tunnel. She stood beside him, refusing to slide down the entrance until she knew he would be safe. The Orc's saw that their prey was getting away and began racing toward them. A Warg came at them, but Thorin quickly fell it with one smooth swing of his sword.

"Bet you're glad you've got that Elvish blade now!" Elwen snarked, laughing with relief.

"Kili!" Thorin shouted.

Elwen looked up and saw several Wargs closing in on the young Dwarf. He shot three more before turning and running as fast as he could toward safety. An Orc, the one that seemed to be leading the pack, was quickly gaining on him, and Elwen realized with a sinking feeling that there was no way Kili was going to make it. She felt Thorin grab her shoulder, knowing her thoughts.

Elwen suddenly felt…different. She couldn't explain it; it was as if suddenly the rational, human part of her brain clicked off and something more base and instinctual took over. She found her body moving of its own accord, just like when she'd trained with Kili and his bow and Fili with swords. It was as if she was remembering something that someone had tried to bury in the very furthest recess of her mind.

Elwen shoved Thorin's hand away and streaked passed Fili, who was standing close to the rock shouting for his younger brother. He tried to grab her, to stop her, but she ducked under his arm and readied her knife.

She made it to Kili just in time. The Orc was bearing down on him, the Warg nipping and snarling at his heels. She came to a stop, planted her feet, and raised her arm. She knew what to do, how to aim, how hard to throw.

The knife flew from her hand and buried itself in the Orc's skull. The Warg was thrown off balance enough to stumble without its rider, and stopped its pursuit. She turned and began running back toward Thorin.

"How-"

"Later!" she shouted, shoving him toward the crack. Elwen slid down the stone, landing in a heap on the cavern like floor. Her ribs screamed and she laid down on the rocky ground, gasping. She heard it when Fili, Kili, and lastly, Thorin landed near her.

"Are you alright?" Thorin asked, finding his way to her side at once.

"Ribs," she gasped. "Help me up." Thorin helped her slowly to her feet, keeping hold of her arm. Her legs were trembling with effort and pain.

"I never taught you to throw a knife!" Fili said, looking at her with amazement.

"Nor did I!" said Kili.

"I…I don't know how I did that…I-"

Suddenly, the sound of a war horn echoed down into the chamber. Elwen started, her eyes on the entrance into their hiding place. Sounds of braying horses and battle drifted down into the rock, and she suddenly felt herself being jerked to the side as the body of an Orc came flopping down the crack.

Thorin pressed her behind him, ignoring her protest. Gandalf whipped his staff down to the throat of the Orc, making sure it was well and truly dead. Thorin bent down and yanked out the arrow that had lodged itself in the creature's throat.

He examined the arrows tip. "Elves," he said, throwing it to the ground. Gandalf fixed the King with a knowing look.

"I cannot see where the pathway leads!" called Dwalin. Elwen looked up, surprised. She hadn't noticed a pathway. "Do we follow it or no?"

"Follow it, of course!" replied Bofur immediately.

"I think that would be wise," said Gandalf almost lazily, as if he knew the danger had passed for now.

No one needed any convincing. The company began moving toward the path, everyone eager to put distance between themselves and what had just transpired. Thorin sheathed his sword and wrapped his free hand around Elwen's middle to hold her steady as they walked.

It didn't take long before the passage narrowed enough that they had to walk one at a time, the path appearing to be a crack between two tall cliffs. Thorin told Kili to walk in front of Elwen so that she could hold on to him, and he himself remained behind her, steadying her with his hands and making sure she did not fall. She was in too much pain to let her pride win out and let herself be lead.

The further they walked, the stranger Elwen began to feel. Her head swam as the weight of some kind of force pressed down on her. It was something she was positive she'd never felt back in her old home, and yet somehow the sensation was familiar. She recognized it, felt as if it were a part of her.

 _I feel as though I am waking from a deep, deep sleep…_

"Gandalf," Bilbo said, "Where are we?"

"You can feel it?" Gandalf replied.

"Yes," said Bilbo. "It feels like…well…it feels like…"

"Magic," Elwen managed to gasp.

"Exactly!" exclaimed Bilbo. "Like magic!"

Gandalf looked over his shoulder. He smiled a knowing smile then turned back to the Hobbit.

"That's exactly what it is," said the Wizard, "a very powerful magic."

Suddenly, the pathway spread out onto an open ledge. Elwen stopped short, Kili on one side and Thorin on the other. What she saw in front of her was the most beautiful sight she had ever beheld-a valley, a city, a haven.

"The Valley of Imladris," said Gandalf, gazing out over the sprawling, elegant buildings, flowing river, and flourishing trees. "In the Common Tongue, it is known by another name."

And suddenly she knew.

"Rivendell," said Elwen. Thorin turned to her, his face full of confusion. "The last Homely House east of the sea. I don't know how I know that," she said, half pleading for him to understand.

 _I've been here_ , she thought. _I know this place. I am a_ part _of this place._

Elwen fell to her knees.

 _Am I home?_

 **Authors Note: Hello lads and lassies! Hope everyone is doing well this fine day or night, depending on where you are in the world.**

 **Here is chapter 7 for your reading pleasure. This chapter feels very much like a bridge chapter to me. It's a sequence of events that must take place in order to get us to a very interesting place in the story; Rivendell! I'm sorry if anyone feels it's a bit lacking, but I felt it was important for it to be its own chapter because otherwise, chapter 8 would have been entirely too long. The shortest chapter in this fic is 11 pages, and that's chapter 1. I think the shortest after that is about 20 pages. Longest chapter is…a lot more than that, let's just say. So yeah, I feel like it's important for the beats of the story to be separated where they should be.**

 **As this chapter's a bit on the shorter side, however, I will be putting chapter 8 up soon as well.**

 **Thank you to those who have reviewed, followed, and added this story to your faves! I very much appreciate it! Pallysdeeks and Queen MariaTheresia, your comments are as lovely as ever and I love to hear from you both! Thank you so much for your continued support!**

 **Ro781727 - Welcome and thank you for the reviews! I did edit out the ale chugging haha. I've got to keep a certain flow going, and so not every little background action is going to make the cut. I go through a pretty rigorous process in order to make Elwen fit into the story seamlessly, which includes watching the films with captions and pausing so I can get the right movements and inflections where appropriate. Obviously not everything can be included, and not everything can translate to prose the way I wish. I do the best I can! Also, yes, Elwen does take over a few of the other characters lines. Just all apart of making her fit into the story and make her presence in a scene relevant and realistic!**

 **Alrighty, I think that's it. I hope to be seeing you all in the reviews. Thanks again for reading and be on the lookout for chapter 8. If I can complete editing another chapter from part 2 and have it ready, I'll post chapter 9 soon after. My goal is to only post a chapter once I've completed polishing one for later. That way I won't catch up to myself!**

 **Cheers- L**


	8. Chapter 8 Rivendell

Chapter 8 **Rivendell**

Elwen couldn't breathe. It was as if she'd suddenly been sucked into a vacuum. The influx of magic, it was too much. She could feel it under her skin, in her chest, in her soul. It was almost as if she were _made_ of the stuff. She was on her hands and knees gasping for breath until she felt a warm presence at her side.

"It's okay," a deep voice murmured to her. "Take a deep breath. In and out…just like that."

Soon, the world came back into focus a little at a time. First the rocky ledge she had collapsed on, then the person next to her who was so close she could feel his breath on her cheek.

"Do you want to stand?" Thorin asked.

Elwen nodded and let him help her off the ground. He kept an arm around her as they turned toward the rest of the company.

"What's happened to her, Gandalf?" Bilbo asked, voice full of concern. Gandalf smiled, but it was a tired smile that didn't quite meet his eyes.

"Elwen comes from a place completely devoid of magic," he explained rather sadly. "I imagine the magic of the Elves feels a bit overwhelming to someone who has never felt even a sliver of its presence. She should be fine, but I think more light will be shed on the situation once we find our host."

Thorin scowled deeply. "This was your plan all along," he accused, "to seek refuge with our enemy."

"You have no enemies here, Thorin Oakenshield," snapped Gandalf. "The only ill-will to be found in this valley is that which you bring yourself."

Bilbo and Elwen exchanged glances. She mouthed "awkward," at the Hobbit, who coughed to cover up a snicker.

"You think the Elves will give our quest their blessing?" Thorin shot back. "They will try to stop us."

"Of course they will!" Gandalf raised an eyebrow. "But we have questions that need to be answered."

Thorin dipped his head in begrudging acknowledgment.

"If we are to be successful," Gandalf continued, "this will need to be handled with tact, and respect, and a no small degree of charm. Which is why you will leave the talking to me."

This time Elwen laughed out loud, which made her wince with pain as her ribs throbbed.

They started the hike from the ledge toward Rivendell. Thankfully it was a completely downward slope and Elwen managed the walk unassisted. She brushed aside Thorin and Kili's protests, insisting she'd caught her second wind and could make the descent just fine on her own.

The truth was, her ribs hurt like hell and she was exhausted to the point of collapse, but something inside would not allow her to walk into Rivendell under anything other than her own steam. It would be like Thorin arriving to Erebor on a stretcher, unable to hold his head high as he returned to the hall of his fathers.

But she couldn't tell the Dwarves that, because that would mean Rivendell was the place she was possibly looking for, and that would mean…

"Elwen?"

She blinked, pulled out of her thoughts by Bilbo, who had come to stand beside her.

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" she asked, and the Hobbit chuckled.

"I was asking if you felt better?" he asked, his eyes equal parts concern and curiosity. "Your reaction to the magic of this place was rather unexpected."

"I've never felt magic before," she replied simply. "At least none that I can remember…"

"Elwen," Bilbo halted, holding on to her elbow. They let the rest of the party get a few steps ahead of them before presuming a more leisurely pace. "Elwen, I just wanted to say that, though I know Thorin does not care for the Elves, I don't think anyone else would hold it against you if you were to find out…well…"

Elwen reached out for his arm and looped hers around it. She felt a surge of fondness for the small man, and was suddenly very glad he had decided to come along this journey after all.

"My ribs hurt so bad I could vomit," she confided. "Can I hold your arm?"

Bilbo straightened as if he had just been given the greatest of honors, mumbling "Of course, of course," and making sure she didn't stumble until they were on flat ground.

"Bilbo…thank you," she said once they reached the bridge that would lead them into Rivendell proper. "No matter how all of this turns out, I am truly glad to have found a friend in you."

Bilbo smiled but seemed at a loss for words.

Elwen let go of his arm and crossed the great stone bridge with the rest of the company. _Whatever answers I seek lay across this bridge_ , she thought and felt well and truly terrified. So she did the only thing she knew to do; she squared her shoulders, stood as straight as her aching ribs would allow, and lifted her chin. She might be afraid, but she'd make damn sure she never showed it.

They passed between two stone guardians that stood like pillars on either side of the bridge. Elwen studied their faces, the helms, the armor, and knew immediately that this was not the first time she had passed between these sentinels.

Everything around her felt so familiar, including the open stone courtyard beneath a tall set of stairs they found themselves halting at. She searched her memories, desperate for any scrap of information, but it was like seeing everything through a distorted lens, and only in bits and pieces. It was maddening and she was beginning to wonder if it would actually drive her bonkers.

She tried concentrating on the beauty of everything, such as the palace like building that seemed to be built into the face of the cliff. The whole land seemed to radiate life, as if the buildings had been part of nature and simply sprung into existence one day and were not the product of actual labor. It was incredible and part of her wanted to see it all.

"Mithrandir," a voice called out.

A dark haired Elf clothed in a deep purple the shade of evening descended from the stairs, greeting Gandalf with a hand to his heart and a smile.

Elwen saddled up next to Thorin toward the front of the group. She wanted to be close at hand if he decided to do anything ridiculous.

The Dwarves began to murmur, Thorin whispering, "Stay sharp," to Dwalin. Elwen kicked his boot lightly and hissed, "Be polite!"

"Ah, Lindir!" Gandalf replied happily.

"Lastannem I athrannedh I Vruinen." The words flowed off Lindir's tongue like rain down a smooth stone, making Elwen's ears tickle. _We heard you had crossed into the Valley_ , she thought. _That's what he just said. I know this language._

"I must speak with Lord Elrond," Gandalf insisted in the common tongue.

"My Lord Elrond is not here," replied Lindir, looking around at the sprawling company before him.

His eyes paused on Elwen, the silver circlet upon his head glinting in the fading sun. His eyes grew wide with shock, but he schooled himself so quickly that no one else seemed to notice. She cocked her head, her eyes narrowing.

"Not here?" Gandalf asked, drawing Lindir's attention to himself once more. "Where is he?"

Just as Lindir was about to reply, a familiar horn blast echoed through the trees and off the smooth stone of the courtyard. The company turned and saw what appeared to be a battalion of horsemen crossing the bridge and riding upon them at a rapid pace.

"Ifridi bekar!" shouted Thorin. "Close ranks!"

Thorin reached around her and shoved her into the center with Bilbo as the rest of the Dwarves closed in around them. Kili stood next to her, his arm around her waist, and refused to let go no matter how much she swore. Eventually the blinding pain of her ribs sapped her will to protest and she leaned heavily onto him.

The horsemen were upon them quickly and began to move around them in circles. The Dwarves snarled and cursed while Elwen did her best to shove her way toward Gandalf, but a stout wall of Dwarf stood in her way. Kili gripped her tighter and refused to relent no matter the number of fowl names she spat at him.

Eventually the whirl of Elves and horses ceased, and the rider of a great chestnut brown stallion broke apart from the group.

"Gandalf!" he greeted.

The Dwarves loosened ranks, arms still at the ready, but Elwen was able to at least see what was going on now.

The Elf wore a silver circlet similar to Lindir's but different in design. He wore leather armor and had long, smooth dark hair. She sensed great age and power coming from this Elf, but his face was also kind and patient.

A memory flashed in front of her so quickly that it slipped through the fingers of her mind as she tried to grab at it. Did she just see this man, this Elf, sitting next to a young girl with silver-blue eyes and dark hair, reading a book near a fireplace?

 _This is Lord Elrond_ , a voice inside whispered. _You know him._

"Lord Elrond," Gandalf said, confirming what Elwen already knew to be true. "Mellonnen! Mo evinedh?" _My friend! Where have you been?_

Elwen felt as though she had been standing on a field of fog and now the fog was being lifted. With each word of this language, Elvish, or Sindarin, the world around her was becoming more and more clear.

"Farannem 'lamhoth i udul o charad. Dagannem rim na lant Vedui," replied Elrond. _We've been hunting a pack of Orcs that came up from the South. We slew a number near the Hidden Pass._ Lord Elrond dismounted and he and Gandalf embrace. When they parted, Elrond fixed Gandalf with a knowing look. "Strange for Orcs to come so close to our borders. Something, or _someone_ , has drawn them near."

Elrond produced a blade and handed it to Lindir, who takes it and nods.

"Ah," Gandalf said guiltily, "that may have been us."

Elrond turned his attention to the company. Thorin stepped forward.

"Welcome Thorin, son of Thrain," said the Elf.

"I do not believe we have met," Thorin replied lowly. Elwen kicked him in the back of the leg. Kili coughed to cover up his chortle.

"You have your grandfather's bearing," Elrond continued, nonplused. "I knew Thror when he ruled under the Mountain."

"Indeed?" Thorin snarked. "He made no mention of you."

"Why you stupid, stubborn, stumpy-" Elwen snarled, Kili trying to shush her. They were both quieted by Elrond's strong voice echoing out over the stone.

"Nartho I noer, toltho I viruvvor. Boe I annam vann a nethail vin." _Light the fires, bring forth the wine. We must feed our guests._

"What is he saying?" growled Gloin. "Does he offer us insult?"

The rest of the Dwarves join in the inquest and Elwen rolled her eyes.

"He's offering us food, you halfwit!" she shouted, immediately regretting it when he ribs began smarting once again.

Thorin turned to her, regarding her shrewdly. "How did you-"

"Ah, well in that case, lead on!" said Gloin.

The rest of the Dwarves seemed all too happy about the prospect of food.

"Gandalf!" Kili called, helping Elwen toward the Grey Pilgrim, as Lindir and Elrond had called him. The other Dwarves were being ushered away with the promise of food and drink and respite.

Thorin hung back a moment but she waved him off. Kili was babysitter enough. Eventually Dwalin managed to coax his leader to go with the rest of the company, leaving Elwen in capable hands. She couldn't help but smile at the worried look on his face, however.

"Elwen needs to see a healer," Kili said. "I'm afraid she hurt her ribs quite badly fleeing from the Orcs."

"It was those blasted trolls," she swore, wincing with every word. "The run didn't help, though."

"Of course," Elrond said, taking notice of her for the first time. "Lindir please show Miss…"

Elwen and Elrond's eyes met for the first time and a wave of recognition seemed to wash over them both at the same time.

"Oh…"

"May I introduce Elwen Greenlea," Gandalf said. "Elwen, this is-"

"Elrond, Lord of Rivendell," she finished for him. "Pardon that I don't bow. It seems I ended up on the wrong side of a troll's finger."

"Greenlea, you say?" Elrond asked, giving Gandalf a pointed look.

He turned back to Elwen and smiled. His eyes were a cool grey, not the silver-blue of her own. She felt slightly disappointed, knowing this was not the man from her dreams.

"Welcome to Rivendell. Lindir will see you to our House of Healing where you will be taken care of before being brought to dine with your companions. Is this agreeable?"

"Thank you," she said sincerely, all hints of sarcasm and glib absent from her voice. "Would it be alright if Kili came with me? I doubt you could get him to go on to supper without me if you tried."

"Thorin would skin me alive if I left you alone," Kili whispered.

"I, myself, am surprised Thorin left her for even a moment," Gandalf mused, winking at her slyly. She scowled.

"Of course you shall be accompanied by your friend," Elrond replied with a whisper of a smile.

Lindir motioned for them to follow him. Leaning heavily on Kili now, in too much pain and being much too tired to care, the pair loped after their Elven guide, Elwen feeling the eyes of Gandalf the Grey and the Lord of Rivendell on her back as they went.

* * *

"Gandalf," Elrond began gravely, but his old friend simply held up his hand.

"I only know what the Lady felt I needed to know," said Gandalf.

"Surely you know this girl, Elwen Greenlea as you called her, is no ordinary human." Elrond eyed the Wizard suspiciously.

Through the ages Elrond had learned that there was not much that passed unseen before the eyes of Gandalf the Grey. A shrewd, quick, and calculating fellow wrapped in unassuming mysticism, Gandalf often went underestimated and unnoticed by those whom he moved around like pieces on a game board.

Yes, Mithrandir most definitely had his own reasons for travelling with Thorin Oakenshield and the Dwarves of Erebor. What Elrond did not fully see as of yet was the part Elwen had to play.

"Well," said Gandalf, trying and failing to sound innocent. "I had my suspicions, but I had no proof until…"

"Until you entered our borders," Elrond finished. Gandalf nodded.

"Her magic has awakened. She remembers the Sindarin language, and I have reason to suspect she also understands bits of Black speech." Gandalf looked as if he had something else to add but was not sure as to how much he should divulge. Elrond urged him to speak and finally the Wizard sighed and relented. "I believe she also possesses the gift of foresight."

Gandalf tells Elrond of Elwen's experience of seeing Smaug the Terrible in a fireplace and of her waking from a nightmare that left her quite shaken just two nights before.

"I believe these visions are tied to her purpose for being brought back to Middle-earth," Gandalf said sagely.

Elrond nodded and suggested they go join the Dwarves, assuming Gandalf must be quite hungry after the events of the past few days. The Wizard nodded gratefully, mentioning he would not turn down a tall goblet of wine.

As they walked to the place in which they would dine, Elrond thought back to the last time he had seen Elwen. She had been a wisp of a girl, much smaller than most Elves. She took after her mother in that regard. As the Half-Elven daughter of one of the Sindar, Elrond had taken a special interest in her after she was brought to Rivendell and had personally seen to her training and tutoring.

No doubt Elwen had come with the company of Thorin Oakenshield in search of answers she believed Elrond himself could provide. He only prayed that she was strong enough to accept the answers she desperately sought.

Elrond would tell her what he could and guide her as she would allow, but what she did with the knowledge of her heritage was up to her and her alone. Would she hide who and what she was in fear that Thorin Oakenshield and the rest of his party would shun her? Or would she embrace her father's people and fulfill whatever greater purpose it was that the Lady had seen?

 _Only time will tell._

 **Authors Note: I forgot how short this chapter was, so I went ahead and posted it. Happy reading! – L**


	9. Chapter 9 Elwen of the Wood

Chapter 9 **Elwen of the Wood**

The halls of the last Homely House felt equal parts foreign and familiar to Elwen as she slowly followed Lindir, with the help of Kili, to the House of Healing. They climbed the wide stone stairs and passed through open corridors painted in the in the golden light of the fading day.

Every new building they passed felt like it had sprung from nature itself. There were no doors, just open archways. In some places it appeared the structure had been built around trees rather than destroying them for progresses sake.

There was something about Rivendell that made Elwen feel free. Perhaps it was the openness of the structures and the way the Elves seemed to live with the land instead of on it. Thinking back to her time in the grimy flat, and even the group home, suddenly made her uncomfortable. How had she ever borne it? How had she not realized how entrapped she was by the man-made structures? Creatures as wild and free as she were not meant to be caged.

Elwen shook herself. _Even my thoughts don't sound like me._

Her uneasiness grew as the sense of familiarity and knowing settled upon her. She knew she was remembering, but did that have to mean changing?

Her already dogged gate slowed considerably, though they hadn't covered much distance. The stress of the previous night and day coupled with pain, exhaustion, and a hint of fear was finally taking its toll.

"Do you want me to carry you?" Kili asked, his face a mask of worry.

"I'm going to pretend you didn't just ask me that," Elwen said through gritted teeth.

"Stop being so stubborn," he whispered, cutting a look at Lindir who was walking several paces in front of them. "I don't know why you care so much what these Elves think. Just let me-"

"Do not speak of what you do not understand," Elwen snapped.

Kili was so surprised by her tone that he paused mid-step.

She stumbled and would have fallen had Kili not gripped her under the arm. She looked up into his face, silently beseeching him to understand what she couldn't explain. _I feel so different here. This isn't who I am!_ But did she really believe that?

"You sound just like one of them…" Kili said.

She couldn't tell if his voice was filled with curiosity or disgust. Probably both.

"We are here," Lindir's voice pulled the pair from their momentary standoff.

The first thing Elwen noticed as they were ushered into the room were the candles. The entire room was lit by what looked like a hundred candles scattered around the place and in gold sconces. She felt immediately calm upon entering, as if all the tension that had built up in her body over the last few days was being siphoned away.

"How may I assist?" asked a tall, willowy woman.

Her chestnut hair was tucked behind pointed ears and fell in waves down to her waist and her dress was the color of the clearest of blue sapphires. Elwen had trouble meeting the Elf woman's dark green eyes. They made her feel as if the woman could see inside her, down into her bones searching out ailment and injury.

"Caelil, may I present Elwen Greenlea and her companion," Lindir said formally.

The woman Caelil bowed. When she straightened, she looked to Lindir.

"Please escort the Master Dwarf from the room. Lady Elwen is in pain and I must observe the wound."

Kili began to protest, but Elwen shook her head.

"I'll be alright," she said, squeezing his arm. "She doesn't mean me any harm."

Kili gave the Healer a sharp look before he finally nodded. "I'll be right outside," he said, his words echoing with warning.

When they were alone, Caelil insisted Elwen sit on one of the cloth covered benches.

"Please lift your tunic," said Caelil, sitting next to Elwen and smiling. "The pain is here, yes?" Caelil pointed to her own ribs as an example.

"How did you-"

"I am a Healer, Lady Elwen. It is my job to know." Her voice was light and musical, like the tinkling of bells.

"Just Elwen, if you don't mind. I'm not a Lady," Elwen muttered and lifted her top.

Caelil's long, elegant fingers felt cold as they dance across her skin. Elwen looked down and saw that the small bruise she'd had that morning had doubled in size and deepened into a sickening purple and blue. She did her best to stay silent when the Healer pressed down slightly on the injury, but a whimper slipped through her lips unbidden.

Caelil nodded. "This is easily mended," she said, standing up and walking over to a long wooden bench pushed against the far wall.

Atop the bench were glass bottles of all shapes and sizes filled with different kind of liquids and lotions, boxes of what looked like herbs, and several large leather bound tomes. Caelil went to work, plucking ingredients from their places and depositing them into a large, wooden bowl.

"May I ask how you acquired such an injury?" Caelil asked while she mixed the contents of the bowl.

"I got poked by a troll," Elwen replied flatly. "Then chased by an Orc pack, which didn't help the matter."

Caelil chuckled and returned to Elwen's side with her bowl, its contents now a mossy green color and sandy looking in texture, and a roll of cloth.

"No, I suppose not," she said. "This will help with the pain. You will need to rest for at least a night."

Elwen gave her an incredulous look.

"I have bruised ribs," she said slowly, as if perhaps the woman didn't understand exactly what that meant. "That could take weeks to mend, and I don't know of any, um, lotion that can instantly fix…anything."

"You are not familiar with Elven Healing." It wasn't a question. Caelil smiled patiently when Elwen shook her head. "Our people are very…what is the word?" she tilted her head. " _Connected_ , yes. We are connected to the world around us. We are able to discern how best to use the nature that is at our disposal, and improve upon it with our gifts."

"Gifts?" Elwen asked.

Without warning, Caelil scooped some of the paste from its bowl and using the flat of her hand, pressed it into Elwen's bruise. She hissed from the contact. Caelil stilled, her hand still resting on Elwen's side, and began to chant.

It was like the world slowed on its axis. Her vision began to blur, and when she looked to the Healer, Elwen could have sworn on all she held holy that the woman began to glow with a radiance that appeared to be light plucked straight from a star. Elwen's heart pounded and it became hard to breathe.

And then the world came sharply into focus. It was as if Elwen had been forcibly removed from her body and pushed into what seemed like a film.

She saw Caelil sitting exactly in the same spot, but instead of speaking to an adult Elwen, there was a little girl in her place. Caelil was holding her wrist and speaking softly to the child. Elwen, in her dreamlike state, moved closer to the Healer and the Elf-child, and what she saw made her freeze. The little girl was looking around with pain filled eyes a shade of blue so pale it could almost be mistaken for the steel of a blade.

Just as suddenly as the vision began, it ended, and Elwen was once again seated next to Caelil, her hand on her ribs. When Caelil opened her eyes and retracted her arm, Elwen's hand lashed out quick as a snake and snatched the Healer by the wrist. Her grip was strong, but if she was hurting Caelil, the Elf didn't show it.

"You've healed me before," Elwen said accusingly. "You acted like you didn't know me, but you do."

Caelil met Elwen's blazing anger with an even coolness.

"Tell me what you saw," said Caelil, her voice betraying no emotion.

Elwen released her wrist and flung it away. Caelil began to wrap her ribs in the cloth she was holding, and Elwen did not protest.

"I am _not_ an Elf!" she seethed through gritted teeth.

"Tell me what you saw." Caelil's tone didn't change.

She was so calm, it made Elwen even angrier. They all knew her. She was absolutely certain. Both Lindir and Lord Elrond had recognized her, yet said nothing.

"You," Elwen said at last, her body growing heavy, as if a great weight had settled on her shoulders. "I was small for my age, but I _feel_ like I was older than I looked." That was as well as Elwen could explain it. "You were fixing my hand or wrist. I had sprained it or something."

"I believe your friend is eagerly awaiting you, Elwen." Caelil smiled serenely, as if nothing was amiss.

"What?" Elwen shouted. "You can't just-"

The Healer stood. It was the first time Elwen realized just how much smaller she was than the Elves she'd met thus far.

"Elwen?" Kili was standing at the door, his eyes narrowed toward Caelil. "I heard you shout. Are you okay?"

"Yes," she said quickly, schooling her face in a way she hoped was convincing. "Moved too quickly and it hurt. I'll be there in a second." Kili hesitated, and it filled Elwen's heart with warmth toward the Dwarf. She flashed a small smile that she hoped conveyed her thankfulness. "I promise Kili, I'm alright." Finally he nodded and backed out of the archway leading back outside.

"The Dwarves care a great deal for you," Caelil commented when Kili was gone.

Elwen shrugged; she didn't know what to say. It seemed strange, but she knew the warmth and fondness she felt for them was reciprocated. She'd been traveling with the company for no more than a few weeks, but after everything they'd gone through from battling trolls and running from an Orc pack, it felt like she'd known them her whole life.

 _A group of beings that were considered mythical to me just a week ago are now the closest thing I have ever had to family._

Yeah, it was probably as insane as it seemed, but wasn't the entirety of her life generally unlikely? Given her current situation, perhaps it wasn't that crazy.

"I care a great deal for them as well," she replied quietly.

Caelil studied her intently and Elwen had to avert her eyes. It felt as if the Elf woman was staring right into her mind and it was more than unnerving.

"You are afraid," said the Elf.

"Stop," Elwen whispered.

"You are afraid of how they will treat you, once they know what you are."

"I said, stop!" Elwen's voice was quiet, but sharp.

"You are afraid of what _he_ will think."

Elwen turned on her heel and strode toward the exit. She needed to get as far away from this woman as possible. In that moment she was tempted to go straight to Thorin and beg to leave. He was the only one of their company that she was sure didn't want to be in Rivendell as badly as she in that moment.

"You cannot run from who you are," Caelil called out.

Elwen froze, her whole body going rigid. She whirled on the Healer, and fighting back tears.

"I've never known who I am. I was robbed of my identity and sent to a world that was not my own by the hands of _your_ kind. If that is my heritage, I do not want it."

She walked out into the evening, filling her lungs with the sweet, crisp air of Rivendell. She grasped the railing and looked out over the city. She hated how beautiful it was. She hated how right the place felt. But what she hated the most was standing in a place she knew she had stood before and having no solid memories to prove it. They were there, hiding in the far corners of her mind, dancing on the edge but always just out of reach no matter how much she strained.

"What's wrong?" Kili asked, coming to stand next to her.

She didn't look at him, just kept staring out at the valley. The sound from the river below was soothing and she felt her frayed nerves beginning to calm.

"Nothing," she said, pushing herself off the railing. "I'll just be glad when we put this place behind us."

She tried to walk passed him, but Kili blocked her path.

"What's happening to you?" he demanded. "You've been acting differently from the moment we stepped foot into this valley. Since when do you speak Elvish? And why do you look as though you've seen a ghost? Please, Elwen…I just want to help."

Elwen turned toward Kili, a Dwarf she'd only known for a handful of days but already felt like the closest friend she'd ever had. She wanted to speak, to tell him all of her fears, ask him to take her away, beg him not to abandon her in this place if her worst fears were realized.

 _Please don't leave me if I'm an Elf._

The words would not come. Elwen was a lot of things, but a coward wasn't one them. She wouldn't beg and she wouldn't flee. She'd face whatever happened head on and would simply hope that the time the company had spent together was enough to keep them from despising her on principle.

She turned away from Kili without a word.

"Lindir, would you take us to our friends?"

The Elf looked startled, but nodded. "Of course," he said curtly. "Follow me."

Elwen and Kili walked in stubborn silence. She could feel the young Dwarf's anger radiating off his skin. She felt a pang of guilt, but still she said nothing. She didn't know how to make him understand, so she didn't try.

They arrived just as the food was being served. Gandalf motioned for her to join himself, Elrond, and Thorin at their table, which she did gladly.

"Why does Kili look like he might stab his dinner?" Thorin asked.

Elwen glanced over at Kili and saw that he'd found a seat next to Bofur. He was glaring at a piece of lettuce as if it had personally offended him.

"No idea," she lied. He gave her a dubious look but didn't comment.

Elwen took a sip of the wine that had been placed in front of her and watched as Elrond examined the swords that Gandalf and Thorin had liberated from the trolls' cave.

"This is Orcrist, the Goblin Cleaver," said the Elf, sounding astonished. "A famous blade, forged by the High Elves of the West, my kin. May it serve you well."

He passed the blade back to Thorin, who accepted with a nod of acknowledgment.

Elrond then took Gandalf's sword. "And this is Glamring, the Foe-hammer, sword of the King of Gondolin. These swords were first made for the Goblin Wars of the First Age…"

Elwen stopped listening, choosing instead to observe the Dwarves sitting at the other tables. They were all looking at the food in front of them as if it were a living alien lifeform. Ori looked at a piece of lettuce and shook his head, and Dwalin grabbed a hand full of greens from a bowl, tossing it away when he realized that was all there was to the dish.

"Where's the meat?" she heard him ask and had to stifle a laugh.

Kili no longer looked as though he might murder his meal. She saw he was gazing curiously at the Elf woman playing the harp. Elwen rolled her eyes when Kili grinned and winked at the musician. This action did not go unnoticed by his companions.

Kili's smile fell when he noticed Dwalin staring at him.

"Can't say I fancy Elf maids myself," he said nonchalantly, trying to cover his tracks. "Too thin. They're all high cheekbones and creamy skin. Not enough facial hair for me. Although…" His eyes followed the path of an Elf walking behind him. "That one there's not bad."

Elwen had just taken a sip of wine and nearly choked when Dwalin said, "That's not an Elf maid."

The Elf turned and revealed a handsome, masculine face. Dwalin winked and the table exploded with laughter and jeers. Kili looked helplessly scandalized.

Elwen felt a pang go through her. She couldn't help but feel hurt, though none of the company had meant to slight her. They could not know that their words had driven home one of her greatest fears; the Dwarves would not accept her if she turned out to be of Elvish blood.

What little hope she'd had dimmed into the tiniest flickering flame, and she could no longer bare to sit so close to Thorin. Her chair made an angry sound as it scraped upon the stone of the terrace when she pushed it back away from the table. She walked several paces away until she was standing on the edge of the terrace, looking out into the ever fading day.

"You are not hungry?" came a deep voice from behind her.

Elwen didn't turn around. She gripped the stone of the balcony and kept her gaze firmly ahead. The tall, elegant Lord of Rivendell came to stand beside her.

"You are troubled," he said softly.

Elwen stiffened and glanced sideways at the Elf. He had a kind, smooth voice, but that didn't fool her; his voice also held power. It was like the ocean; calm and serene one minute, and a raging tempest the next. He was an ancient being full of mysterious magic that Elwen felt thrumming through her despite her ignorance of how to control it.

 _This is who will have you answers,_ echoed a faint voice in her mind that was not her own. _Do not squander your fortune._

Her eyes snapped to attention. She whirled on Elrond, certain that it had not been his voice in her head, but she knew he heard it too judging by the knowing look he leveled her with.

"Do you know who I am?" she asked, keeping her voice even as possible despite how shaken she felt.

Elrond nodded slowly, his eyes wary. Elwen's stomach clenched. She was suddenly feeling very unsteady on her feet and leaned heavily on the railing.

"I've been here before?"

She didn't really need to ask, nor did she need to look at him to know the answer.

"You are remembering," Elrond said. "When you crossed into these lands, the veil upon your memory was weakened. You will find yourself recalling much, and it may be a bit disorienting."

"So I'm an Elf," she said miserably.

She wanted to slide to the ground, bury her face in her hands, and weep. But she couldn't look weak, not with the whole company watching. Somehow she managed to stay upright.

Elrond laughed, the sound bringing to mind a wind chime.

Instead of answering yes or no, he said, "Has Thorin Oakenshield so prejudiced you against our kind?"

There was no reply; she was too busy trying not to cry. The thought of being a part of the very race that the Dwarves trusted the least filled her with dismay. There was no way the company would allow her to continue the journey to Erebor. The trust Thorin had placed in her would be smothered like a fire. What reason did he have to believe she hadn't known all along?

"Take heart," Lord Elrond smiled. "Have faith in the bonds you have formed. Even a jagged rock shall be smoothed by the flowing river."

Elwen snorted. "I'm not a flowing river. I'm more like a hurricane." She peered at the Elf beside her once more. "Do you know who my parents are? Do you know why they sent me away?"

 _Do you know why they didn't want me?_

Elrond met her eyes steadily, his eyes sympathetic as if he'd heard what she had not been able to say.

"These questions have no simple answers, and I think perhaps a more private venue for this conversation is in order," he said, inclining his head toward the tables.

She could see out of her peripheral that thirteen Dwarves and one Hobbit were all watching the conversation intently. When she whirled around and fixed them with a glare, they all quickly averted their eyes and pretending to have become quite fascinated by the food in front of them.

All except Thorin. His eyes never left her.

"You are weary," said Elrond, his voice drawing her attention back to the person next to her. "Go, eat with your company. I will send for you on the morrow and we shall speak on this matter. For now, you need rest."

Elwen was too tired to protest, and his words were true; this was not a conversation she wanted to have in front of the Dwarves. She nodded curtly and he floated back to his seat next to Gandalf. Aside from Thorin, the Wizard had been the only one openly eyeing the exchange. He looked at her with equal curious and troubled eyes, as if her worries were also his own.

Wanting to avoid further conversation with Elrond, Elwen headed toward Bilbo and the rest of the company. Several of the Dwarves scooted around to make room or her. She reluctantly claimed the seat between Bofur and Kili.

"Are you alright?" Bofur asked.

"Fine," she replied shortly.

Kili scoffed. He was clearly still angry with her and she had to try very hard not hit him in the face with a plate.

"What'd the Elf want with ya, lass?" asked Bofur. He took a bite of crisp lettuce and made a face. Echoes of his question ripped around the table.

"Leave her be," Thorin said from his spot next to the table. Apparently she wasn't the only one who wished to avoid the Elven Lord as he had come to join the rest of the company. He refused a chair offered to him, claiming he preferred to stand. "Her business is her own."

She gave him a grateful look. If she didn't think everyone would think she'd gone mad, she might have hugged him.

"Aye," Balin agreed. "Elwen doesn't strike me as the secretive type. I am sure she would tell us anything of importance."

She tried very hard not to flinch.

The music was beginning to grate on the Dwarves. The melodious notes flowing from the harp and flute made her eyes feel heavy and she wished for nothing more than dinner to be over so she could find a corner to collapse and sleep in.

"Change the tune, why don't you?" snapped Nori, turning to the harp player. He turned back to his companions and rubbed his ear. "I feel like I'm at a funeral!"

"Did somebody die?" Oin asked, sounding genuinely inquisitive. The horn did not help him detect sarcasm.

"Alright lads," Bofur said, shaking his head, "there's only one thing for it."

The mustachioed Dwarf climbed onto a plinth next to the table, knocking cups and plates to the ground as he centered himself. He motioned with his hand and began to sing a jaunty little tune, drawing the attention of even Elrond and Gandalf.

" _There's an inn/there's an inn/there's a merry old inn/beneath an old grey hill,"_ he began, and Elwen thought his voice didn't sound half bad.

It didn't take long before the rest of the Dwarves joined in the singing, and to Elwen's surprise even Thorin was singing and dancing along, smiling at his friends. They all beat on the table in time with the tune and Elwen joined in.

" _And there they brew a beer so brown/the Man in the Moon himself came down/one night to drink his fill/Oh the ostler has a tipsy cat/that plays a five-string fiddle/and up and down he saws his bow/Now squeaking high/now purring low/now sawing in the middle/So the cat on the fiddle played hey-diddle-diddle/a jig that'll wake the dead/He squeaked and he sawed and he quickened the tune/While the landlord shook the Man in the Moon/It's after three! he said."_

Elwen laughed and smiled along with the others as she tried to dodge flying bits of food, but her mind would not allow her to truly enjoy herself. She watched the Elves cast bewildered looks at the company as they also ducked to avoid pastries, lettuce, and various other foods that was rocketing across the terrace.

She didn't like the way they were looking at her friends. The word made her chest sting. Would she still be their friend when everything came to light? She could only hope, but she barely dared to do even that.

"Did what I said earlier bother you?" Kili asked in a hushed tone while the others were distracted.

Elwen blinked. "What are you…oh."

She remembered him winking at the Elven woman playing the harp and what he had said about not finding Elves attractive.

"I was only having fun," he said quickly, apology evident in his voice. "Of course you felt insulted as I've compared you with Elves in the past, but-"

"I'm just tired, Kili. It didn't bother me," she said firmly, wanting no room for argument.

"I just thought…well, that maybe you didn't like my winking at the Elf maid." Kili looked down at his cup of wine.

"Why would I be bothered by that?" she asked, truly perplexed. He looked up at her, an eyebrow raised. She sighed. "Do what you want, I don't care. I've always known you were a bit of a flirt."

"A flirt?" he let out a bark of mirthless laughter. "I'm glad to know how you view my character!"

Elwen felt her anger begin to rise. She hadn't slept in over twenty-four hours, had nearly been an appetizer for a trio of trolls, and chased all over God's creation by ugly, blood thirsty Orcs. She was not in the mood to be trifled with.

"Show me something worth believing in, Kili, and maybe I'll re-think your sincerity."

The hurt that flashed across his face was enough to make her regret the words as soon as they left her mouth. Kili had been a good friend to her and she had never truly doubted him, but she didn't like the direction the conversation was taking and wanted to dissuade him from taking it further. Unfortunately, the young beardless Dwarf couldn't take a hint.

"You know, I thought that maybe you and I…" Kili looked up and his eyes found his Uncle.

Elwen looked up as well and found Thorin's blue eyes watching the pair of them shrewdly. She quickly looked away. Kili looked at him, and then to her. His face fell.

"Don't Kili," she snapped. "Whatever you're thinking, just shut up."

He smiled bitterly. "Apparently I was mistake," he started.

"I'm warning you, Kili…"

Her temper was teetering on the edge of a knife. She remembered what Thorin had told her about losing her senses. She tried counting to ten, and it would have worked had Kili stayed quiet. But he didn't.

"Perhaps there is another of this company whose sincerity you would not doubt. Maybe your heart is elsewhere."

It was his tone that did it. As if it would be the most foolish thing in the world for her to care for Thorin. She wasn't ready to acknowledge any feelings she might or might not have for anyone, Thorin, Kili, or otherwise. But Kili's words brought them to the forefront, and now she couldn't pretend them away.

Still, she might have been able to walk away. That was until he saw how his words had hit home and he flashed her a satisfied smirk.

 _Nope_ , she thought, and reached for her cup.

Later on, Elwen would think that she had shown great restraint by only dumping the wine over his head instead of smashing his face in with the goblet.

Kili's cry of surprise had drawn the attention of all those who had gathered to dine. Elwen dropped the cup unceremoniously in his lap and pushed herself away from the table, ignoring the shouts and calls of the company as she walked away.

* * *

Thorin watched Elwen stomp away. If her side still pained her, she didn't show it. She was angry; he could tell by the set of her shoulders and determined stride. The wine all over his youngest nephew had been a pretty significant clue as well. Thorin closed his eyes and massaged his temple.

"What did you do?" he asked Kili, who was trying to mop up the sticky mess to no avail.

Kili stayed silent, but judging by the look of shame that flashed across his features, Thorin knew it hadn't been good.

Bofur whistled lowly. "If you're trying to win the lassie's heart, you're off to a great start."

Fili snickered.

Thorin snapped to attention, no longer finding humor in the situation.

"Is that what you're trying to do, Kili?"

His voice was sharper than he meant it to be. All eyes were on him then. A few of the Dwarves looked bewildered, and Fili looked nervous. It was only Balin and Dwalin who looked upon their old friend with understanding eyes. Thorin refused to meet their gaze or acknowledge what they were surely thinking.

"What if I am?" Kili asked, his face full of stubborn defiance.

Out of both his nephews, Kili had always been the reckless one, but never so willful. He and his brother had always looked to Thorin as a father figure. They caused their fair share of mischief, but never disobeyed or challenged his authority. But the set of Kili's jaw spoke volumes; he would fight for Elwen. Not only did he think Thorin may not approve, but perhaps also saw him as a rival.

Thorin couldn't think about that. He could not acknowledge the sting in his chest at the mere thought of Elwen in his nephew's arms. He had never experienced such a white hot jealous rage course through him like liquid fire. This was not the time to dwell on what it might mean.

"Does she return your affections?" Thorin asked, dreading the reply. Just because a woman throws wine in your face doesn't mean she does not care for you. Sometimes it means the opposite.

Kili's stern defiance melted from his face, and in its place was confusion, and more than a little bit of shame.

"What have you done?" Thorin asked quietly.

Kili sighed and shook his head. "We're friends, nothing more." His voice clearly told that he wished it weren't so. "I…I think perhaps her heart is elsewhere. And I said so. Rudely."

The way Kili avoided Thorin's eyes gave his suspicions away as to who he thought Elwen's heart might belong.

Thorin shook his head, bewildered. He wanted to admonish the young Dwarf, chastise him for such foolishness. He remained quiet, however. It was foolishness, of course. At least it should have been. He'd known the girl for a handful of days, and it was beginning to look more and more as if her origins were Elvish in nature.

Yet, Thorin found that he didn't care about any of it. Even if Elven blood ran through her veins, she was not like those he had known long ago.

"Maybe someone should go check on her," Fili suggested.

Thorin agreed. He wanted to go himself, but he had other responsibilities. The map had to be seen to.

"Kili," Thorin said, his voice heavy with regret, "go make it right."

Kili nodded curtly, but before he could walk away, they were interrupted.

"Perhaps the Master Dwarf would like to clean up a little first?" asked the Elf Lindir, who had heard all from his seat and risen to offer assistance. "I can show him where to bathe and then take him to Lady Elwen."

Lady Elwen, was it? _Oh, she won't like that,_ Thorin thought wryly.

Thorin nodded his consent and watched Kili follow Lindir into the House of Elrond, a sick feeling settling like a stone in his gut.

* * *

Elwen found herself wandering the halls of what appeared to be the main building in Rivendell. It was the House of Elrond, and it was haunted. Not by restless spirits, but by memories she couldn't quite reach.

Elrond had mentioned a veil covering her memory. Yes, some kind of barrier had been erected in her mind. It had stood high and impenetrable her entire life, so sturdy that she had long given up throwing herself against it, hoping it would budge.

In the end, all it had taken was walking into Rivendell to send the wall crumbling. Crumbling, but not completely gone.

Elwen came upon a corridor that made her pause. A large, beautiful painting depicting some kind of great battle had been erected. A man lying on the ground clad in fine, shining armor, holding up a sword. A large, black clad figure that looked akin to a monster was standing over the man, arm raised high as if to strike a killing blow.

She looked over her shoulder and saw a statue of an Elf with outstretched arms, holding what looked like some kind of alter with a cloth laid over it, and on top of that, the shards of a broken sword.

"That is Narsil."

Elwen started in surprise. Elrond had moved so quietly from the shadows that she hadn't heard him approach. _Do all Elves move like bloody panthers?_

"I sort of recognize it," she said, scratching her chin, "or at least, I think so."

Elrond nodded. He then told her a story; a story about a great evil that had threatened the entirety of the world. Magic rings of great power, one more powerful than the rest. One ring to rule them all. He told her of Isildur and his failure to destroy the ring of power when he had the chance. He said the ring was lost now, likely swept out to sea, but even as he said the words, he did not seemed convinced of their truth.

"I keep this sword, waiting for he who would claim it once more." Elrond sounded profoundly sad as he spoke of the past.

She didn't imagine those were fond memories. He was pulled from his revelry, his eyes losing their far off stare.

"I will show you to your rooms," he said courteously.

"My rooms?" she asked. "I'm not staying with the company?"

Elwen felt an onslaught of panic burn in her belly. What if Kili had told Thorin his suspicions and now he wanted nothing to do with her?

Seeing the frantic look in her eyes, Elrond took pity on her and said, "Your ribs are better, but still need care. I thought a comfortable bed would do you much good. Thorin and company have refused to room within my halls and will be sleeping in the clearing near the fountains."

Elwen hesitated, but eventually consented and allowed herself to be lead down the hallway. She glanced back over her shoulder once, her eyes finding the shards of the sword called Narsil. She couldn't shake the feeling that, someday, that sword would become very significant, either in her own life, or perhaps the entirety of the world. She ignored the strange sensation and turned back toward Elrond, all thoughts of fallen kingdoms and rings of power washed from her mind.

Elrond bid her goodnight at one of the only rooms she'd seen that actually had a door. She pushed it open to reveal a bright, airy room with an open balcony. The first room appeared to be a sitting room, full of plush chairs and couches that were so beautiful Elwen didn't dare sit down on them in her filthy clothes.

She was about to go explore the rest of the suit when a knock on the door made her pause. When she jerked it open and peered out into the corridor, her eyes narrowed.

Kili stood outside, his eyes wide with surprise from her yanking the door open. She very nearly punched him in the face on principle, but decided she could settle with slamming the door in his face. He stopped it with a booted foot.

"Please," he said almost too softly for hearing. He looked so earnest that she reluctantly relented and stepped aside to let him enter.

Elwen didn't say a word, just silently wandered out onto the balcony. She heard his footfalls behind her. They both leaned against the railing and gazed out over the valley. The land below was bathed in silver moonlight, giving the place an ethereal glow. The river reflected so much light that it seemed to emit its own radiance. The sky seemed so much clearer in Rivendell, and the stars more numerous and bright. She felt as though she could stare into the very depths of the heavens and yet never discover all of its mysteries.

A cool breeze tousled her hair, the first hint that summer was fading. It brought her focus back to Kili. She looked over and saw he was watching her. She noted he was wearing a new, clean top and that his hair was wet. She sighed.

"I'm sorry," she said heavily, and he started.

"Why are you sorry? I deserved it."

"Maybe," she conceded, grinning slightly, "but I still should've shown a bit more restraint."

It was Kili's turn to grin. "Restraint doesn't strike me as one of your strong points."

"Thorin would agree with you there," she snorted. "He thinks my temper is an issue."

Kili's smile fell away at the mention of his uncle. She felt the sting of guilt pierce through her.

"Kili, I-"

He held up his hand, stopping her with the shake of his head. He leaned ounce more over the balcony, propped up on his elbows.

She looked at him then in a way she hadn't before. Whenever they had previously been alone, it was usually in training and she didn't have time to study his handsome features. And he truly _was_ handsome, nearly strikingly so. His face was beardless but for a dusting of stubble along his jaw and cheeks. She followed the slope of his nose with her eyes and stopped at the pout of his lips, full and soft looking. His brow was dark and pulled together, giving his face a look of intensity. Even his eyes were dark, and it struck her then how much he contrasted his brother. Fili, with his fair hair and light blue eyes, was dawn where Kili was dusk.

 _And Thorin is a combination of the two._

She shook herself mentally. It would do no good to think of Thorin's endlessly deep blue eyes, or the way the world seemed to brighten when he smiled.

"What do you know about Dwarfish courting?" Kili asked, never looking away from the valley below.

"Nothing," she admitted, moving back to the railing, imitating his posture.

"Not many Dwarves marry," he began in a hushed voice. "It's rare, in fact, because we believe that we should tie ourselves only to our One, the soul that speaks to our own. Some go through life alone because the woman they believe is their One won't have them, or they die. Once we love, it is as eternal and constant as the mountains we hold so dear."

Elwen shifted nervously. She'd never heard Kili sound so serious and cheerless. It was unnerving, seeing how intensely he was staring into the distance. She found this side of Kili disconcerting and wished to see him jovial and mischievous once more.

"So, you Dwarves are a romantic lot, huh?" she teased once she had mastered her voice.

Kili looked at her and smiled slightly, but it didn't meet his eyes.

"I don't know much about the ways of the human heart," he continued, resolute to follow his train of thought to the end of the tracks. "I don't know if what I feel is love, Elwen. I guess Thorin was right; I know nothing of the world. But what I do know…" his voice dropped and he took a step toward her. "But what I do know is that, though I've known you for what seems like so few days, my soul has known yours my entire life."

For a long moment, Elwen thought he might kiss her. She had to force herself not to wince. She wanted to flee through the door and run until her legs could no longer carry her. She was paralyzed, however; she could not move, and her mouth had gone bone dry.

Since arriving in Middle-earth, Elwen had begun a journey with strangers who were hell bent on stealing from a dragon, she'd been jabbed by a troll hard enough to cause injury, and had nearly been run down by an Orc pack.

Yet, it was the thought of Kili pressing his lips to hers that left her petrified. _Yeah, that makes sense,_ she thought sarcastically, wanting to kick herself in the ass.

Kili reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He leaned in and kissed her forehead so gently, as if she might shatter at the slightest touch _._

 _I was right,_ she thought ludicrously, _his lips are feather light._

When he pulled away, Elwen said, "Kili, I don't know what to say. I don't…I don't know what I'm feeling. I understand what you mean about a connection between us. I feel that, too. But Thorin…"

She quieted, not able to put her thoughts into fathomable words. She did not know how to explain the pull she felt toward Thorin, as if he were a magnet pulling her into him. She _did_ feel something for Kili, she truly did…but not with the same urgency.

She wondered if it were possible to have more than a single One. She found it difficult to believe that out of the millions of souls floating around in the world, there was only one possible match for her.

She didn't ask this of Kili, however, not wanting to give hope where she wasn't sure there was any. Not only for his sake, but for hers as well.

"I understand, Elwen," Kili said gently. "I only want to be your friend, if you'll still have me."

Elwen reached out and grasped his hand, squeezing it tightly.

"The best of friends," she declared.

"Does that mean if my uncle hurts you, I am duty bound to seek revenge?" Kili asked, laughing. Seeing his smile and hearing the amusement return to his voice filled her with relief.

"If I don't gut him first!" she said, laughing in return.

It wasn't long until Elwen was yawning, finding that her exhaustion had returned once her anger and anxiety had burned itself out. Kili bid her goodnight with another kiss on the head, and she saw him out.

Just before she was about to turn back for bed, movement in the shadows of the corridor caught her peripheral vision. She turned quickly, wanting to take the watcher unaware, but could see nothing but a tree swaying in the wind. She went back into her rooms and went about exploring the bed chambers.

She felt incredibly grateful when she saw the gigantic four-poster bed, complete with sheer drapes, dominating the room. It looked so soft and inviting, the clothes someone had laid out for her to change into barely registered. She dressed quickly and crawled beneath a coverlet so soft it was as if she'd laid on a cloud, and it was not long before dreams came for her.

* * *

As Elwen drifted into a black oblivion, she was unaware of Thorin Oakenshield pacing in the night, trying to reason out why his chest ached in a way it never had before.

* * *

Elwen stirred, then jerked up in bed and looked frantically around the room.

It felt as if someone's cold hand had brushed against her cheek. Her mind still foggy from sleep, she was about to lay back down and dismiss it as a dream when she saw shadows moving near the balcony, as if someone were shining a spotlight up into her room.

She might not have been in Middle-earth long, but she was pretty sure they didn't have spotlights.

She wasn't sure why she was doing it, but Elwen crept barefooted from her bed and out of her rooms, pausing in the corridor. She was still exhausted, but it was like some force out of her control was propelling her forward.

 _Someone is calling to me_ , she thought, _but who?_

Elwen wandered out onto the grounds, following a stone path that wound its way into the woods beyond. She paused, leaning forward and squinting her eyes.

The slender figure of a woman as pale as moonlight was visible through the tree line. Elwen moved quietly toward her, barely noticing the bite of stone and twigs on the bottoms of her bare feet. The closer she crept, the more visible the glowing woman became. Her hair hung down to her waist in long, golden waves, and upon her brow sat an intricate circlet of startling bright silver.

The woman turned and looked directly at her. She lifted a hand and beckoned Elwen closer.

Elwen wasn't sure how she knew that this strange Elf woman was not a threat, at least not to her, but she felt it down deep in her being. She followed the woman deeper into the wood until she was lead into a glade.

Elwen faced the woman. "Who are you?" she asked. The woman cocked her head to the side, a curious smile playing across her thin lips.

"Do you not know me, Little Star?" Her voice was like the purest music Elwen had ever heard.

"I…I don't know…" Elwen stammered, feeling as though someone were reaching into her very memory and prying it open with their fingers. She staggered back.

"It is time for you to remember, Elwen," said the woman.

The pain struck her so suddenly that it took all of her will to stay on her feet. She grasped the side of her head and bit back a scream.

A burning ache scorched her as image after image flooded her mind. A small girl no older than three, dressed in forest green, sitting at a long table covered in scrolls and books. The same girl with two curved blades in hand, or a bow. Elwen couldn't grasp all of the images; some slipped away as if they were made of water.

Only one image, one memory, stood out above all the rest; the little girl being put into a deep sleep and placed in a basket large enough for a toddler. A woman, the same woman now standing before her, dipping a long brush in a pot of golden ink, scrawling a name on the side of the basket.

 _My name._

"Elwen Greenleaf," she gasped, sucking in great gulps of cool air. "I am Elwen Greenleaf. And it was you who took my memories."

Elwen did her best to stand up straight, but she was so dizzy from pain that it was difficult. She faced the woman head on. She knew who this person was as well as she now knew the shape of her own hands.

"Galadriel, Lady of Lorien."

"None were taken without reason," said the Lady of Light.

Elwen tried to remember when she had walked with the Lady Galadriel, for she knew she had, but her memories weren't coming fluidly. It was more like scattered pools filled with rain water. When she tried to reach for them, most still slipped through her hands.

 _I'll never remember everything,_ she realized with great sadness.

"Where is my family?" asked Elwen.

She could see the vague outline of a woman with dark hair like her own, holding her closely and singing a soft, sad song. The figure of a man, tall and slim and regal, with long, nearly white hair and steel colored eyes. _My father,_ she thought. _My father is an Elf._ When Galadriel made no reply, Elwen tried again.

"Why did you send me away?" Elwen asked as forcefully as she could. She was growing wary under the gaze of the Lady.

"You are not the only one blessed with the gift of foresight," Galadriel replied.

Elwen gasped.

"My dreams?" she asked, her breath coming quickly. She remembered watching in horror as the great beast Azog plunged his bladed arm into the back of Fili. "Can I change them?"

Galadriel inclined her head. "What we gleam of the future is not set in stone. We see what is, what was, and what has not yet come to pass. What you do with what you see is up to you, Elwen of the Wood. All is not lost."

"Elwen of the Wood?" she asked, recognizing the sign of fatigue as her voice began to quiver.

Galadriel moved forward until she was standing directly in front of the younger girl. She reached out and brushed away a strand of Elwen's hair.

"Sleep, Elwen," she said, her voice suddenly sounding very far away. "Sleep, and see."

And Elwen tumbled head first into darkness.

 **Authors Note: Lo' everyone! Hope you're all doing grand! Here's another chapter for your reading pleasure! So, I've decided I want to be a full 10 chapters ahead before I post. That means I won't be posting chapter 10 until I have chapter 20 ready. I'll be working diligently so hopefully it won't be too long of a wait. Perhaps a week, if that.**

 **Pallysdeeks: So glad you're still enjoying the story! I hope you enjoy this chapter, which I think you will as you seem to be quite the fan of Kili (so am I, obviously!) I hope you like the character development I promised!**

 **Ro781727: Hope this answers some questions for you! And thank you, I quite like Elwen myself!**

 **Freayamichaelson: Thanks for the review! Here's the chapter :D**

 **Once again, thanks for reading and I hope you stick around! Please feel free to leave a review, maybe a theory on what you think is going to happen? I love reading what you all think!**

 **Cheers- L**


	10. Chapter 10 Foresight

Chapter 10 **Foresight**

 _Elwen once again found herself in the abandoned stone fortress._

 _She was standing next to Fili's body, his face already white, eyes glassy and staring. She tried to reach down to close them, the vibrant blue iris already fading and so lifeless. Just as she was about to touch him, she felt herself being jerked away as if by a great hand. She closed her eyes, dizzy from the motion._

 _When she opened them again, she was inside what looked like a tunnel. A corridor carved into the rock? She didn't know, she didn't care. Fili was dead and she needed to find Kili and Thorin. She needed to know they were safe._

 _A flicker of movement. Elwen whirled and spotted a tall, slim Elf woman dressed in dark green battle leathers, fighting her way down the tunnel. She was beautiful, all smooth skin and auburn hair. And she was fast. Her movements were precise and fluid, as if she'd been training for a hundred years. Her opponents died before they hit the ground._

" _KILI!" screamed the Elf, and Elwen jerked to attention._

" _TAURIEL!"_

 _Elwen sprinted toward Kili's answering call, the woman, Tauriel, hot on her heels._

 _Suddenly, a huge Orc jumped out of a side tunnel too quickly for Tauriel to react to. She was so focused on getting to Kili, she hadn't even noticed him. With a mighty kick, he sent her flying into the rocks._

 _He was a nasty looking thing, this Orc. His face was something straight out of a horror film, and his metal armor was all sharp edges, some seeming to be melded right into his body._

 _What happened next was a blur. Tauriel was on her feet, doing her best to fight off the monster, but he was just too strong. Every time she thought she had the upper hand, he threw her off or twisted out of her grip._

 _Elwen knew it was over when he closed a huge, meaty fist around Tauriel's throat. He didn't have lips, but the way he drew his tongue across his jagged, sharp teeth was obscene. In a last ditch effort, Tauriel managed to land a hard kick to the monsters knee, but it wasn't long until he overpowered her._

 _With a jerk that looked like it tore the woman's arm out of socket, Tauriel was lifted off her feet and slammed into a wall as if she weighed nothing. She crumbled to the ground with a moan._

 _The nightmarish creature advanced on Tauriel, holding up the largest mace Elwen had ever seen. Just when she thought this Elf woman was done for, someone gave a mighty shout and Elwen saw Kili fly from a parapet onto the Orc's back._

 _The struggle only lasted a moment. Kili is quickly flipped over and slammed bodily into the stone steps._

 _Elwen started screaming his name, but no one could hear her. She attempted to tackle the Orc, but she ran right through him as Kili continued to fight. He dodged the swipe of the Orc's mace and managed to slash the creature in the center of its chest. But the Orc landed a hard punch to Kili's face that sent him sprawling backwards, dazed._

 _The Orc grabbed Kili to steady him and raised the sharp end of the mace, readying himself to plunge it into the chest of Elwen's closest friend in the world._

 _Tauriel made one final effort. She launched herself at the Orc and grabbed his mace from behind, but she was soon shaken off. She cast Kili one final, desperate look…_

 _Elwen collapsed next to the Elven warrior._

 _The mace sank deep into Kili's chest with a sickening sound that would forever haunt Elwen's darkest dreams. Tauriel cried out, but Elwen didn't make a sound. Her mouth was open, her body shaking, eyes flowing, but the anguish was so fierce and harsh that her screams were silenced._

 _Kili gasped as the steel slid between skin, bone, muscle, ripping him open. Killing him. He turned, and Elwen couldn't tell if he was looking at her or Tauriel._

" _Kili," she whispered, her voice ragged and raw._

 _One tear slid down her best friends face. He took one final gasping gulp of breath, closed his eyes, and Kili, Prince of Erebor, was no more._

 _Elwen looked over to Tauriel, who was reaching out for Kili, tears flowing down her blood streaked face. Who was this woman? What was she to Kili that she mourned so?_

 _And then the Elf woman looked at her. Their eyes met, and Tauriel's widened in surprise._

 _Just as the woman was about to open her mouth, however, her image began to flicker. It was as if she were a hologram and the connection was lagging. Soon, her image flickered and died all together, and Tauriel was gone._

 _Elwen wasn't given a reprieve. A moment later she found herself no longer staring at her dead friend, but out in the open. She was kneeling on ice. Was this a frozen lake of some kind? She looked around and her eyes widened, suddenly finding that she was not alone._

 _Azog the Defiler, the great and terrible pale Orc that he was, loomed over a figure laying on their back on the ice, his great bladed arm poised over their chest._

" _THORIN!" Elwen screamed and scrambled to her feet. She tried to run, but the ice was slick and she fell hard on her knees. When she couldn't run, she crawled, sliding across the cold surface, desperate to make it to his side._

" _Thorin!" she said, panting as she slid next to him. His face was bruised and bloodied. How long had he been fighting? "Thorin, can you hear me? Please, oh please…"_

 _But just like Fili and Kili, Thorin gave no sign that he sensed her presence. He was holding Azog's blade at bay with Orcrist, but his arms were shaking at the effort. The great beast stared down at his prey, flashing a wicked smile. Gravity was on the its side and Elwen saw it on Thorin's face; he knew he couldn't win. Eventually his arms would give way, and Azog's blade would meet its mark._

 _Elwen knew what he would do. She saw the understanding blossom in his eyes and the resignation settle across his face. She tried to stop him, grabbed for his arms and fought and pulled, but to no avail. Thorin slid his sword to the side and allowed Azog's blade to stab him through the chest._

 _The sound that tore itself out of her mouth was not human. It was a wail akin to a banshee, so fierce and shrill._

" _You can't die!" she screamed._

 _Her voice sounded so raw, she had already shouted herself hoarse. Her tears landed on his face and slid down his cheeks as if they were his own, but he didn't notice them._

" _You can't leave me here all alone. I cannot lose you, Thorin. Thorin!"_

* * *

Elwen sat bolt upright in bed. She pressed a hand to her mouth to muffle the scream trying to tear its way through her lips. Her stomach rolled, and it was all she could do to keep from retching. She was covered in sweat, her hair a tangled mess stuck to her face. After wrestling her way out of the blankets, she sank hard to the floor. The bed linens made her feel claustrophobic and she was desperate to feel something solid beneath her.

She was on her hands and knees, panting furiously as quick flashes of her dreams raced across her vision. Kili being brutally run through with an Orc's blade, a woman screaming for him. An Elf with sunset hair. Who was she? Why had her image flickered and disappeared when their eyes met? And then there was Thorin…

Her stomach rolled again and she struggled to control her breathing. The worst part of the entire scene had been the look of resignation that had fallen across Thorin's face. He had known he could not defeat Azog without making a sacrifice… Elwen didn't even know how the fight had turned out; she'd woken up before seeing its conclusion.

 _They're just dreams_ , she tried to tell herself.

But then she recalled her other dream, the one not filled with so much pain and grief, but just as much confusion. She looked at her feet and found them dirty, as if she'd been walking outside barefooted.

Her heart plummeted. It hadn't been a dream. Elwen had walked with the Lady of Light and what few memories she'd had were set free.

What had Galadriel called her dreamlike visions? _Foresight_. But she'd also said her visions weren't set in stone. There was still hope…

 _I won't let this happen_ , she thought fiercely. Her mind was slowly finding focus once more as panic gave way to anger and resolve.

Elwen decided that she would die before seeing Fili, Kili, and Thorin meet such an end. _The House of Durin won't fall so easily. Not on my watch._

Elwen had finished dressing when she heard a soft knock. She was incredibly thankful for the clothes she'd found in a wardrobe in the bedroom. A silk top, simple leggings, and tall, sturdy boots.

She'd done her best to wash the sweat from her body and make herself presentable. She scrubbed and scrubbed till no dirt remained on her feet, as if she could wash away the events of the night. Maybe if there was no dirt, there would be no Galadriel. No visions. No memories. She could go back to being Elwen Greenlea, orphan and member of Thorin Oakenshield's company.

But when she opened the door and was greeted in the language of the Elves, she knew there was no such luck. Everything had been real. She spoke Elvish as easily as she did the common tongue.

"Lord Elrond would like to invite you to breakfast with him," said Lindir, his voice light and kind.

Elwen nodded and followed him to a terrace looking over the flowing river where Elrond and Gandalf were seated at a food laden table. Both rose from their seats and greeted her with a bow. She waved, unsure how to respond to being bowed to.

She grumbled about silly manners when Lindir pulled out her chair. She immediately tucked in to the assortment of fruits, breads, and cakes drizzled with honey. She was so famished, she scarcely knew what to shove into her mouth first, her nausea from earlier completely forgotten.

After a few bites Elwen looked at her host and companion, who both looked bemused by her table manners. She swallowed and shrugged.

"I was hungry," she said sheepishly.

Gandalf raised an eyebrow and replied, "Well, you did leave the table without supper last night."

Elwen's eyes narrowed. "He's lucky I only tossed a drink at him."

"Ah, yes," Elrond mused, "Master Kili will think twice before angering you while you've a drink in hand."

"Or anything in hand, to be sure," added Gandalf.

Elwen didn't reply, just chewed her food and eyed the others around the table warily. Elrond and Gandalf also remained silent as they dined.

When the plates were taken away, Elrond leveled her with a stare.

"I imagine you must have many questions after last night," he said.

Gandalf also looked expectant. It seemed her trip to the woods was no secret.

"I remember bits and pieces," Elwen admitted, leaning back in her chair, feeling the knowledge she now possessed weighing down on her. _Perhaps I should have stayed in bed._ "Not everything, though. Hardly anything, really."

"We cannot tell you everything," Gandalf said. "I'm afraid some memories may be lost forever, but others will become clear over time. I can assure you, however, that Lord Elrond did not send you away lightly, or without reason."

"So," Elwen began heavily, her narrowed eyes once again finding Elrond, "let's hear those reasons, shall we?"

Her patience was fraying with every conspiratorial look the Elf Lord and Wizard shared. Gandalf inclined his head to her and gave Elrond a look that seemed to say, 'Go ahead and tell her. What can it hurt?'

Elrond turned back to her. "The Lady mentioned your foresight?" Elwen nodded stiffly. "I, too, am gifted with the Sight," he continued. "When you were born, I saw the possibilities that lay before you. You were given a great destiny, Elwen Greenleaf."

 _Greenleaf_. That still sounded so strange, and yet so right.

"Who died and gave you permission to choose a path for me?" Elwen growled. "Do I have no say? Did my parents have a say?"

Elwen was perilously close to shouting at one of the more powerful and infuriating Elves in all of Middle-earth _in his own home._

"Your mother was human," Gandalf interjected. "She knew her health was failing, and so she trusted you to Lord Elrond."

Failing health. Her chest stung a little.

"She's dead, then."

Gandalf's sad eyes told her all she needed to know.

"And my father?"

This time it was Elrond who spoke.

"Your father lives, and he consented to sending you away when your mother grew ill," he said, an edge sharpening his voice ever so slightly. "The death of your mother…altered him. It was best that you were raised elsewhere."

"I was better off being raised as an orphan?" she cried out in outrage. She slammed a hand down on the table, rattling the plates. "Do you know what I went through in the children's home? How I struggled?"

Elwen was close to tears. How could being raised by her father be worse than by strangers? Was he some sort of monster?

"Some answers are best sought on your own."

Elrond held up a long, elegant hand as she opened her mouth, prepared to use every swear word she'd ever heard in every single language she knew.

"I will tell you this; your father is a Sinda, or Grey Elf, of great age and regard. You would have turned into someone you would not recognize had you been raised in his halls."

Halls? Her father had halls?

Elrond told her that she'd been brought to Rivendell as an infant; her mother had died when she was barely six months old. From then on, she was raised and tutored until she was five, when the Lady of Lorian had a vision about Elwen concerning her life should she remain in Middle-earth.

"Wait, five years old?" she asked, incredulous. "I was always told I couldn't have been older than three when I was found."

"Elves, as you know, are immortals," Gandalf explained, "and due to this, they age much slower than most. A five year old Elvish child could easily pass for a baby of two, perhaps three. When you were sent away, you'd already learned several languages and basic fighting skills, though much of what you possess is instinct passed down from your ancestors."

Elwen sat back in her chair and let out a huff.

"If Elves grow slowly, why did I age?" She couldn't believe it. "How old am I?"

"You were sent away twenty years ago," Gandalf said. "You are twenty-five years of age."

"You were raised in a world devoid of magic," Elrond said, kind and apologetic. "The powers that makes us immortal in Middle-earth could not reach you there, and so you aged. Now that you have returned, however…"

Elwen paled.

"I'm immortal?" she whispered. "I'm not going to get any older?"

"You will," Elrond assured her, "but you will gradually. Eventually, the aging process will cease altogether. It's different for every Elf, when their appearance stops changing."

Elwen shook her head. She wasn't ready to deal with something like living forever. Instead, she asked something that probably should have been at the forefront of her mind, but came to her more like an afterthought.

"Is he here?" she asked. "My father, is he here?"

Her hopes were dashed when Elrond shook his head.

Gandalf reached out a hand and patted hers. "Our journey will likely take us through his realm. But Lord Elrond is correct; you must seek answers on your own in this regard."

Elwen went still and quiet for some time, trying to piece together the information she had gleaned. She was a half-Elf, like Elrond. She wasn't sure how she knew that he was half human, she just did. Her mother had been human and was dead. Her father was a Sindarin who had allowed her to be taken to a strange land to fulfill some unknown destiny. She'd been given every indication that she would likely not care for her father overly much, and that made her sad and kind of pissed off. What kind of person was he? Very different from herself, surely. She'd been raised under such different circumstances, in an entirely different world, but perhaps that was the point…

Her eyes snapped to Elrond.

"Foresight, the gift you say that's causing my visions. They are glimpses of futures, of possibilities? They are not set in stone?"

Elrond nodded.

 _So I can save them. I can change their fate._

She looked to Gandalf. "Will you tell Thorin who I am? I mean, _what_ I am?"

Gandalf gave her a probing look. "You are part of a great and distinguished line, Elwen Greenleaf. Equal to Thorin Oakenshield in the eyes of most. You should be proud!"

The Wizard's eyes flashed, but Elwen simply shook her head in disbelief.

He sighed and said, "But it is your story to tell, not mine. I urge you, however, not to continue our journey bearing this burden." A smile played on his thin lips. "I do believe Thorin's reaction will surprise you. Perhaps he'll even surprise himself."

They parted ways soon after this, Elrond and Gandalf having important business to discuss that involved something called the White Council. Elwen wasn't ready to rejoin the others, so she wandered the grounds a while.

She was surprised by how much of Rivendell felt familiar to her. While she was walking down a pathway that lead through a flower garden, she was bombarded with memories of skipping down that same path and picking flowers for Elrond's daughter. Yes, Elrond had a daughter, and maybe a few sons. She couldn't remember what they looked like or what their names were; their presence in her past was nothing but a shadow that barely felt real to her.

None of it felt real. She knew now that she'd lived in Rivendell for five years, learning and growing while her body stayed small. She vaguely wondered if she'd get taller now that she was back in Middle-earth, but decided it didn't really matter. She'd been short all her life, she didn't mind staying that way. _I guess a lot of things about me are going to stay the same,_ she thought despondently.

The longer Elwen wandered, the more melancholy she grew. Rivendell had been beautiful from above the valley, but walking among the trees and buildings was another experience altogether. It was breathtaking.

She wondered what it would have been like to be raised there among the trees, to train and learn from some of the greatest minds the world had to offer. Life in a group home hadn't been easy. She didn't know what it was like not to struggle, but it hadn't bothered her. She hadn't known what had been taken away…until now.

"Where've you been, lass?" Bofur shouted.

Elwen paused mid-step. She'd been so preoccupied by her thoughts that she hadn't been paying attention to where she was going. She looked up across the path and spied most of the company sprawled out over soft grass next to a gazebo. It appeared they really had refused beds and set up a makeshift camp right there on the lawn.

She couldn't help but laugh as she walked over to the group. If those idiots preferred to sleep outside, it was nothing to her. She would sleep perfectly well in her feather bed, though she had to admit she'd missed the warmth of sleeping between Fili and Kili.

"We saved you some breakfast," Bofur continued as she sauntered into their camp. He was roasting a sausage over a fire. The kindling looked like it might have been made up of broken furniture. She decided not to ask.

"I ate with Lord Elrond and Gandalf," she replied.

"Where do they have you sleeping?" asked Fili. "Kili wouldn't tell us."

"Bless him, then. Did you find out anything about the map?"

"Aye," came the rumbling voice of Thorin Oakenshield.

Elwen looked up to see him walking out of the wooden structure they'd made camp in. His hair was wet and clothes seemed less dirty than the day before. She guessed the Dwarves had also found the baths.

"It's a long story," Thorin said. "Might as well sit and make yourself comfortable."

If Elwen didn't know better, she would say Thorin was having a difficult time meeting her eyes.

Elwen sat in the grass next to Fili, Kili, and Bofur, took one of the sausages the latter offered, and settled in for the tale. Thorin remained strangely silent while Balin filled her in. She tried catching his eye, but he kept busy by sharpening his axe a few paces away.

Thorin had, of course, been hesitant to show Elrond the map. Gandalf had cursed him as a stubborn Dwarf and he had eventually relented.

Her ears perked up when Balin mentioned the hidden moon runes. _Cirth Ithil_. It tickled her memory as though she'd heard the term before, but she couldn't remember from where. She recalled what Gandalf told her over breakfast; snatches of her memory would come back, but there would be large bits that would be lost forever.

She watched the Dwarves as they spoke in hushed tones about the revelation of the map and what it meant for their quest. Thorin had paused his sharpening. His face seemed smoother and less pinched with anger. Maybe knowing how to find the hidden door into the mountain did the King-to-be some good.

Elwen tried to smile along with the rest of the group, but her stomach felt heavy as lead. Would they still laugh and tease her when they found out she was half-Elf? Gandalf had been right when he said she shouldn't continue the journey with such a secret weighing on her conscience. She would tell them, and soon, she just didn't know how…

"Lass?"

Elwen blinked hard. She looked up and found a gaggle of Dwarves staring at her curiously.

"Where do you go when you drift off like that?" Kili asked, ruffling her hair. She elbowed him roughly in reply.

"I asked how your ribs are feeling." Bofur repeated. "What did the Elves get up to in that House of Healing place?"

Oin held the trumpet to his ear and leaned in closely, eager to hear about Elvish medicine. Elwen leapt to her feet in surprise. She hadn't so much as thought of her injury upon waking! She lifted her new silk top up, unwound the wrappings, and gasped.

"It's gone!" she cried, her eyes flying to Thorin; he looked as shocked as she did. Oin moved forward, reaching out to where the dark, painful bruise should have been.

"May I?" Oin asked much more softly than she'd ever heard him speak.

She nodded and braced herself for the sting she was sure would follow the Dwarf pressing a large, rough finger to her ribs. He looked to her questioningly. Her eyes went as wide as saucers.

"I don't feel any pain!" she cried. Oin pressed harder and she slapped his hand, laughing. "That tickles."

"My word!" exclaimed the hard of hearing Dwarf. "I've never seen an injury such as Elwen's heal so quickly. Overnight, no less!" Oin looked wistfully up at her. "How I wish I had been there to witness it."

"Yeah, well," Elwen grunted, yanking her top back down, "I think it's spooky."

Elwen wasn't entirely sure that the injury would have healed quite so quickly had she no Elven blood, and she wanted to change the subject before anyone else started connecting the dots.

She turned to Thorin.

"Now that you know how to get into Erebor, how long are we staying here?"

"I don't want to linger here overly long," he said, his distaste for the place evident in his tone. "Durin's day will be upon us before we know it. Staying a few more days to rest and replenish supplies will not hurt us on time, however. We shall wait for word from Gandalf."

There was a murmur of approval all around. Most of the company was enjoying the hospitality of Lord Elrond, especially after being given free run of the kitchen. Elwen couldn't join them in their excitement. The longer they lingered in the valley, the longer the assault of memories would last.

Yes, she was glad of the remembering, but she didn't like feeling as if she were becoming something other than what she'd always thought herself to be. It felt as though the person she could have been had she never been sent away was waging a war inside her, desperate to spring forth. Elwen didn't want to lose what little self-identity she'd forged for herself all those years alone.

"Are you alright?" Kili asked, having noticed her grimace. She nodded, deciding to change the subject once more.

"While we're here, we'd better use our down time wisely. I want to continue training. I've got a feeling that wasn't the last time we're going to see those damned Orcs."

"Are you sure your ribs are up for it?" Kili asked, looking doubtful and concerned. A pang pierced her chest as she remembered the way he'd looked at her the night before.

"You saw what we saw, lad," said Oin. "She's healed well and good."

Still, Kili hesitated. She understood as she could hardly believe it herself.

"If she says she's up for it, there's no need to doubt her Ki," said Fili, clapping his brother on the back, then turning to Elwen. "Do you want to work on archery or swordsmanship?"

"Neither," Thorin interjected, a sly look on his face.

Elwen's eyes narrowed. He'd been far too quiet all morning to suddenly look as though he were up to mischief.

"I've not seen what you are capable of _without_ a weapon," he said to her.

"I've been fighting most of my life," she ground out through gritted teeth. "I don't need extra help in that area."

"I'll be the judge of that," he replied, practically purring. Elwen tried to ignore the way his deep, rumbling voice made her stomach flutter.

"Fine," she relented with the shrug of her shoulders. "Who wants to get their arse handed to them?"

Dwalin, Fili, and Kili were all up for the challenge, but when they volunteered, Thorin shook his head.

Their eyes met and a smile that Elwen could only describe as predatory spread across Thorin's face. _Crap_ , she thought. _Crap, crap, crap_.

"Your opponent will be me."

* * *

Thorin watched as the color drained from her face, and he flinched inwardly. Had their scuffle in the clearing so rattled her that she actually feared him now? He thought their experience with the trolls and fleeing from the Orcs had smoothed over that particular rough patch in their friendship.

He frowned at the word. It felt odd, calling her a friend when he wasn't sure if friendship was the only thing he was feeling.

"Now, now," chimed the Hobbit. "Is this really necessary? She says she can fight."

"Yes," Thorin replied, "and now she's been presented with an opportunity to prove it."

He knew he'd won when her eyes hardened and she stood just a little bit straighter. Appealing to her pride was the easiest way to goad Elwen into accepting a challenge.

Thorin couldn't say why he felt it was important to be her opponent in this assertion of skill. He really was curious; she'd said many times that she was proficient in hand to hand, and he knew she wasn't a liar. But the only bit he'd seen with his own eyes was the incident that took place before their confrontation with the mountain trolls. He ran his tongue along the inside of his bottom lip. It was still sore from where her fist had laid into him. Yes, he'd bested her then, but only by causing her to lose focus. There would be no tricks this day.

Thorin would be lying if he said he didn't want to satisfy his curiosity as to her ancestry as well. Elwen had, over the course of their journey, shown herself to be a creature of instinct. Her reactions in training and battle seemed to be completely unconscious efforts on her part. She could shoot a bow like it was second nature, and then there had been the knife she'd thrown with deadly accuracy. When she was cornered and forced to act, it seemed to Thorin that some part of her buried deep inside emerged to protect itself.

This, he believed, was linked to her sudden ability to speak the Elven tongue and her violent reaction to magic. Elwen was not absent of memories, they were simply hidden. All of this said one thing to Thorin, and he wanted to see if in fighting her, he would find further proof of his suspicion.

The rest of the company gave the pair room, all sitting to the side and shouting encouragements, tips, and making wagers.

"Two strikes and Thorin will have her on the ground," said Dwalin.

"It'll take at least seven," cried Bofur.

"I think Elwen will win," said Bilbo, smiling at his friend.

Elwen glowered at them all, save Bilbo, and Thorin chuckled.

"Care to make a wager?" he asked her lightly.

A grin spread across her face that was positively feral.

"I will take you down in five strikes," Elwen replied, sounding amused. The company laughed, enjoying the competition between their leader and friend.

"What do you want should you win?" he asked teasingly.

"Your respect will be enough," she replied without hesitating.

He was a bit taken aback by her reply, and their companions quieted.

"You already have that, Elwen," he said sincerely, "but if you win, we will consider your training complete. Any further practice will be of your own will."

"And if you win?" she asked.

Thorin smiled and said, "Your respect will be enough."

She didn't reply, but her answering smile said it all.

Dwalin yelled for them to get on with it, no doubt having bet good coin on their match. Elwen smirked, Thorin nodded, and the pair readied themselves for a spar.

They circled each other slowly, both assessing one another and looking for an opening in which to strike. Thorin felt a hint of unease beneath her hawk-like gaze. She eyed him as if he were prey. A smirk slid lazily across her full lips as she moved around him lithely. It was almost like she were an animal that liked to play with its food before pouncing. There was no cruelty in her features, however. There was no malice. This was only sport.

Thorin lunged. He hoped to take her by surprise, but she easily danced away, blocking his strike and batting him away as if he were an annoying insect.

"One!" cried Kili, cheering her on. This grated on Thorin more than he'd care to admit. After the way his nephew had kissed her brow the night before…

He struck again, more wildly this time, desperate to drive out the memory. This time he didn't back up or give her time to breathe. He advanced, but she blocked once, twice, three times more.

"Four!" Fili shouted.

She was on him before he could blink.

Thorin knew she couldn't overpower him, he was too solid for that. She did her best to distract him while going for his legs, trying to put him on the ground. It nearly worked when she landed a solid blow to the center of his chest and gripped the front of his tunic. She'd planted a foot solidly behind his own, and shoved. What she hadn't planned on was Thorin wrapping his arms around her middle and pulling her to the ground with him.

They landed in a heap of tangled limbs in the soft grass. They were both breathing hard, but Thorin could hear her laughing. He turned to her and found her looking at him, smiling as he'd never seen her smile before. It wasn't a cocky smirk, but a smile that showed true happiness. It completely transformed her face, and Thorin was struck dumb by how beautiful she looked with her hair splayed around her on the grass like a dark halo.

"I think that was a draw," he said, brushing a piece of hair from her forehead without thinking.

"I can live with that," she said, grabbing his fingers and squeezing them. He couldn't help but smile back.

Elwen hopped to her feet and extended an arm down to Thorin, helping him up.

Technically, those who sided with Elwen won the bet, as she did take him down after five strikes. Coin exchanged hands and laughter rang out across their little section of Rivendell. Elwen was beaming as Kili picked her up and twirled her around, happy that she'd won him so much gold.

"I'll never doubt ya again, lass," said Bofur, grinning.

Thorin quietly watched the exchange with a half formed smile, despite the feelings warring inside him. He watched Elwen jostle Fili, daring him to wrestle with her, and he agreed all too eagerly. It wasn't long till they were rolling on the ground, him swearing and calling her a cheat when she yanked on his mustache.

The others of his company were looking upon the scene with fond amusement. Even Dwalin had come to appreciate the girl he had once regarded with suspicion. During their short time together, Elwen had earned the respect of the Dwarves of Erebor, and had definitely won their hearts. Thorin knew that they would all stand with her in place of kin.

And none of them, himself included, cared about her heritage.

It had been whispered and discussed at length in the dead of night when she'd laid sleeping in the bed Elrond had provided for her. And now after their little spar, there was no doubt; Elwen was Elf-kind. Or at least partly so. There was another fact in which there was no doubt; none of them gave a damn.

"Oi, Thorin!" Elwen shouted.

Thorin looked up and saw that she'd somehow gotten Fili in a headlock that the young warrior couldn't break free of.

"Your nephews need a little more instruction," she called cheekily.

Dwalin shook his head at Fili in disgust. "Pathetic," he said.

"She cheats!" Fili gave a muffled shout. "Damn you, ouch! Stop that!"

It was then Thorin managed to discern how Elwen had managed to keep hold of him in such a way.

"Fili," Thorin shouted, "you _never_ let an opponent get you by the beard!"

The rest of the day and evening passed with much easy laughter and cheer. Elwen was scandalized when she caught several members of the company bathing in a large fountain, making a great deal of covering her eyes and shouting at them to put on their damn bloody clothes. For a woman who swore so heartily, she came off as awfully prudish, which surprised some of the others.

When darkness fell, wood was found (more furniture, which also made Elwen swear) and a fire was started for supper.

The subject of Elwen's furious blushing over finding a few Dwarves quite absent of clothing was broached by his nephews as the company cooked another rasher of sausage over the fire. The comedy of this was lost on no one as Elwen glowered and stabbed at a link viciously.

"Did you leave behind a lad?" Bofur asked, wigging his eyebrows.

Dori admonished Bofur, turning to Elwen and saying kindly, "What he means is, as you're quite the proper lady and all I'm sure, is if you had a suitor? Someone who was courting you?"

Elwen choked on the water she was drinking and she burst into peals of laughter.

"A suitor?" she asked incredulously. "Courting? Is that what you call it here? That's sounds downright medieval."

Thorin's brow furrowed. He glanced at Kili, finding he looked a bit put out by the statement as well.

"What do you call it, then?" Thorin asked, curious.

Elwen tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Well, we call it dating."

" _Dating_?" Balin asked, flummoxed.

"Um," she said, "why don't you tell me what you consider courting and I'll tell you how it's different where I come from." She looked at Thorin as she spoke, so he felt obliged to be the one to answer.

Thorin explained to her that Dwarves did not begin courting without the want of serious commitment. Once a Dwarf man was granted permission by the object of his affection, he would put a courting braid down the left side of her face. Courting was often a quick affair of wooing and the man proving his worth. Marriage often followed within a season, but not always.

"My wife made me court her for nearly half a year," said Gloin, smiling wistfully at the memory. The keeper of coin was often found gazing longingly at the locket he carried with the portraits of his wife and son inside.

"Ah," Elwen said, "well, courting, as you call it, is much more…casual where I'm from. Sometimes it leads to marriage, but, um, people usually court more than one person before settling down."

"And that's 'dating'?" asked Ori shyly.

Elwen nodded and gave them the basic rundown of how courting worked where she was from. If Elwen had seemed scandalized over naked Dwarves, it was nothing compared to how the company felt about this dating.

"And, um," Kili started, staring at his hands, "have you…dated?"

Thorin reached out and smacked Kili on the head. Elwen blushed and answered even though Thorin told her she shouldn't feel obligated.

"I've never, errr, dated anyone. Not really."

Thorin did his upmost not to look relieved, but the others didn't school themselves so well.

"You know," she said, "just because two people date doesn't mean they actually-"

"We get it," Kili said in a rush. "That's not what I was asking! It's just…um…"

"Have you ever been in love, Miss Elwen?" Ori surprised everyone by asking, his shy voice soft and quiet.

The flames cast an orange light across her pale skin, making her appear to glow from the within.

"I didn't have time for love," she replied slowly, thinking about her words very hard before speaking. "I was too busy trying to survive. It isn't that I'm opposed to the idea…" her cheeks began to color, and not from the firelight.

It wasn't long until everyone began to yawn. Elwen bid everyone a goodnight and bounded off toward her room.

Thorin laid down on his pallet and stared up at the stars. They seemed to shine more brightly in the valley. Elwen seemed to shine more brightly here as well. Even though he had been staunchly against coming to the Elves for assistance, as he closed his eyes and felt himself drift off to sleep, he decided he was glad they'd found themselves to Rivendell. Even if it was only to see the stars.

* * *

 **Authors Note: Hello all! I'm sorry it's been longer than a week. I actually fell quite ill last week with bronchitis. I was on a lot of medication and writing was simply impossible. I haven't caught up to the place I'd like to, so you won't be getting chapter 11 for at least a week, I just didn't want to make you wait any longer for chapter 10! Thank you to all who read chapter 9. You all seem to be enjoying the story so much and it's really making me happy! I appreciate every follow, fav, and review! It's great reading your feedback. I'm very curious to read some of your theories on how you think the story will end up!**

 **Ro781727: Yeaaaa I knew it would be a little on the nose, but I promise there IS a surprise coming where Elwen and her heritage is concerned. It's a twist I'm hoping none of you see coming, but we'll see!**

 **MisscallaLilly: Oh, just wait. It only gets worse from here haha. I hope the tension comes through full force in the chapters to come! All the angst!**

 **Freaymichaelson: ;) I'm looking forward to that as well!**

 **ChloeBlackLupin: Thank you! I'm loving that you're loving it! And I love your username! I'm quite the Potter fan myself :D Thanks so much for reading!**

 **AlyssaInNeverland: Hope this tides you over! Thank you so much for reading!**

 **Alright Lords and Lassies, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I'll be back with another soon enough!**

 **Cheers – L**


	11. Chapter 11 Hiding

Chapter 11 **Hiding**

Their time in Rivendell stretched on past three days without much notice. For the first time since her arrival in Middle-earth, Elwen felt she was able to relax.

The place was a paradise. Elwen roamed the woods and walked the streams, relishing in the fact that there were no farmer-eating trolls or blood thirsty Orcs lurking in the shadows and trees. They could rest unmolested all night without anyone needing to stand watch. The borders were secure and in the Valley of Imladris, Elwen was safe.

Yet her mind did not go undisturbed. The weight of her secret weighed heavily upon her shoulders, yet every time she opened her mouth to reveal all, she found that she could not.

During their third day in Rivendell, Elwen determinedly avoided the Dwarves and, instead, wandered around with Bilbo Baggins.

Bilbo found that Rivendell also agreed with him. As a child in the Shire, the Hobbit had begged and pestered his mother for stories about the Elves. To Elwen's chagrin, she found that Bilbo knew more about her father's people than she did. She made an effort to commit his stories to memories.

After one such tale, Bilbo eyed her rather strangely.

"You can tell me, you know," he said a bit awkwardly. "Whatever it is that's troubling you. You can trust me."

Elwen felt a surge of fondness for the Hobbit, nearly moved to tears. It was tempting, the thought of unburdening herself to Bilbo, to be able to talk and work through it with someone else who was just as lost as she in this wide, wild world.

She held back, however. She trusted Bilbo and knew he would never tell a soul if she asked him not to, but she knew it would be selfish to bring him into her confidence. It was one thing for her to keep a secret from Thorin and the others, but she'd not make the good Master Baggins an accomplice in her lie by omission.

"You're a good sort of fellow, Bilbo. Did you know that?" She reached out and hugged him quickly. He stammered his thanks, but squeezed her back nonetheless.

"Lord Elrond offered to let me stay here for a time," Bilbo confided, looking pensively at the trees surrounding them.

"Are you going to stay?"

Elwen knew the journey had not been an easy one for Bilbo, and he was probably terribly homesick. If he chose to stay, she wouldn't judge him for it.

The Hobbit opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by a voice calling for them. It was Dori telling them to come for supper if they wanted any. Elwen looked around and was surprised to find the sun was beginning to dip low in the sky. Time sped by quickly when one was not on the run from deadly creatures, after all.

* * *

Dinner went smoothly, as always. Elwen had insisted the Dwarves gather actual wood from the forest to build their fires instead of breaking up more bits of furniture. She'd also put a stop to bathing in the fountains. They had conceded and began to seek out a wash room.

Thorin, she noticed, seemed especially well groomed that evening. His beard was freshly trimmed and his clothes seemed to have been laundered as well. She found herself unable to take in his appearance without flushing. _How can someone so grumpy be so dashing?_ She glowered a bit as her own thoughts betrayed her.

Fili whistled when he looked up from his plate and saw her moving into the firelight.

"You look like an Elven princess!" Ori said, sounding delighted.

Elwen wrinkled her nose. She had been looking through the wardrobe in her chambers and stumbled upon a dress unlike any she'd ever seen. When she'd pulled it from the wardrobe, she'd been so surprised she nearly dropped it because the material was so smooth and water-like between her fingers. It was the color of fresh lavender, and though there was no occasion for it, Elwen couldn't resist putting it on that morning. It was cool against her skin and clung where it was flattering. It was perfect, as if it had been made for her by sorcerers. She wouldn't have been surprised if a little Elven magic seeped into every part of life there in the valley, including the making of clothes.

Now, standing in front of a gaggle of slack jawed Dwarves, she was starting to regret the choice just a little. Bilbo's exclamation of how pretty she looked paled in comparison to the looks she was receiving from the rest of the company.

"Maybe I should change-" she started, feeling ridiculously overdressed for an evening by the fire.

"Don't be silly," replied Bofur, clearing his throat. "Your dinner will get cold. Sit here so you won't dirty your dress."

Bofur gallantly spread out his traveling cloak and Elwen sat, kissing his cheek in thanks. She didn't have the heart to tell him that his cloak was probably just as dusty as the ground. Kili brought her a bowl of stew and sat down next to her, smiling almost shyly.

"You look beautiful," he said. "Like a proper lady.

Elwen nudged him with her elbow. "And what do I look like every other day?"

Kili smirked and nudged her back, but said nothing. He only looked at her the way he had on their first night in Rivendell. _Don't you know?_ his eyes asked, and she had to look away. If he noticed her unease, he didn't show it. He turned to his brother and began talking animatedly about something or other.

But Thorin noticed. She felt his eyes on her like two points of fire on her skin. He hadn't commented on her attire, just gazed at her with hooded, blazing eyes. Was she imagining the heat of his gaze? Hoping for it?

It was ridiculous, whatever feelings she might have been harboring for the Dwarf. She knew that. Thorin had been gruff with her at first, but over the span of a few weeks and with all that had transpired, he had softened. Elwen remembered how he had tenderly assisted her after discovering her injury at the hands of the trolls. He'd been protective of her, and even kind.

But that didn't mean anything. Certainly not what she hoped it did.

She ate the stew, barely tasting it, in silent contemplation. She tried to listen to the snatches of conversation going on around her. Kili threw a hunk of bread at Bofur, and she thought about joining in. Kili was so jolly and fun; it would make sense for any woman to fall for his roguish smile and easy manner. He had been so good to her, _so good_ …

Then she felt Thorin's eyes on her again. She turned away from the merriment and went back to her food.

By the time everyone was full and happy, night had fallen. She helped put away dishes while Bofur began playing his flute and Balin sang a sad little tune. She was clearing away the last plate when she felt someone gently brush her shoulder with long, thick fingers.

She looked up, expecting to see Kili, and nearly dropped a dish when she saw Thorin standing so close. He snatched the dish out of the air before it hit the ground and put it away, grinning. Elwen sputtered, her face burning, and wiped her hands furiously on a cloth.

"Did I scare you?" he teased.

He was talking to her like he would any other night, as he had nearly every evening since their meeting. Yet, the friendly antagonism seemed unusually charged. An easiness had settled between them since Elwen had joined him on the edge of the cliff and he'd told her about the Arkenstone, but she suddenly felt jostled and hot.

Possibilities flitted through her mind. _Maybe it's the dress_ , she thought. Or maybe Kili had spoken to his uncle of his confession of feelings toward her? Whatever it was, it made her feel prickly, as if there was suddenly too much energy in too small a space.

"If you weren't so stealthy, I'd have heard you coming!" she snapped and swatted him with her rag before throwing it down angrily. "How someone as burly as you can be so quiet, I'll never know."

He chuckled, a low and throaty sound, and she suddenly felt very warm. God, she didn't want to start sweating. Pit stains on a silk gown would not be attractive in the slightest.

"Come for a walk with me," Thorin murmured, his voice low, almost a purr.

It wasn't a command, but not exactly a request either.

She blinked and nodded dumbly, taking the arm he offered her. _A proper lady_ , Kili's words echoed in her mind.

As they walked out of the clearing arm in arm, Elwen spied some of the company casting conspiratorial glances at one another. Dwalin and Balin looked at one another and the old white haired Dwarf smiled knowingly while his brother shrugged his great, broad shoulders. Bofur winked at her, but Fili elbowed his brother and inclined his head.

When Kili turned to her, she looked away, unwilling to see his face fall.

* * *

The evening was cool and clear. As the firelight grew faint the further they ventured, the stars grew brighter. Despite the breeze and thinness of her dress, Elwen found that she was quite warm walking next to Thorin. His heat spread over her like a comfortable blanket.

The air still felt super charged. An image of great stone dams splintering against the pressure of a flood came to mind. That's what her feelings were like since coming to Middle-earth; a flood she feared would drown her.

She thought about what Kili told her about Dwarves and the way of their hearts. The concept of soulmates wasn't foreign, though she'd never had cause to think much on the subject. _Well, I'm thinking about it now_ , she thought ruefully, unable to deny the way her body hummed as she gripped Thorin's arm.

Kili had said that his soul had known her his whole life. If she were forced to tell the absolute bald truth, she would have to say that yes, she felt the same way. Elwen had had an instant connection with the Dwarves of Erebor. Their welcoming manner had made falling in with them simple and pleasant. They had taken to her just as quickly. Even the prickly Dwalin enjoyed telling her tales of past battles and of days when Erebor was still a mighty Kingdom.

But of all the thirteen Dwarves, she'd been drawn to Kili and Thorin like a moth to flame.

Elwen was comfortable with them, and nowhere in the world felt safer than by their sides. But Thorin…if Kili drew her to the flame, Thorin engulfed her in a raging fire. She had felt his inferno the moment their eyes had met for the first time; she with eyes like stars and his like sky.

Denying it did her no good, and while the Dwarves may be simple in some ways, they weren't blind. Elwen had always been a crap actress. Perhaps her own feelings weren't hidden well, but Thorin's were an absolute mystery.

"What do you think of when you gaze at the stars in such a way?" Thorin's rumbling voice brought her back to the present. She hadn't realized they'd stopped walking or that she'd been gazing skyward.

They had wandered into some sort of courtyard area near the main house and gardens. There were no trees interfering with their viewing the great smattering of stars above.

Elwen smiled and settled on telling him a half-truth.

"I think about all kinds of things," she said, "but just now I was thinking about something Kili told me. About how Dwarves believe in…in soulmates, of sorts."

Thorin raised an eyebrow. She blushed and looked away.

"He called the person your 'One.' Do all Dwarves believe in this?"

"Yes," Thorin said, smiling. "Though we don't believe every Dwarf has a One. Most Dwarves go through life without a mate, in fact."

His voice held a distinct sadness that told her he had always assumed he would be one such Dwarf who would walk the world alone.

Elwen frowned. "That sounds lonely," she replied softly. "The thought that your soulmate isn't out there somewhere. It sounds like you'd have to be content with living a half-life."

"Says the woman who has had no time for love," he replied archly.

She looked him full in the face then. He was so achingly beautiful. Not in the way Elves were with their flawless figures and gliding movements. It was a rugged sort of beauty, a natural sort, like the way a jagged landscape of mountains is splendid to look upon, or when a sunrise leaves you breathless. Thorin was the earth she stood upon, and she felt steady now under his gaze.

"I think…I think I want to make time now."

She heard his breath hitch, ever so slight a sound. She could see doubt cloud his features, however. _He thinks I mean Kili,_ she realized.

"Thorin, I-"

"Of course I was going to tell you," a voice came from above them.

Elwen and Thorin looked up to see Elrond and Gandalf walking down a stone walkway on an upper story. She thought about calling out to them, but Thorin pulled her out of sight and motioned for her to quiet.

"I was waiting for this very chance. And really, I-I think you can trust that I know what I'm doing," said the Wizard.

"Do you?" Elrond replied. "That dragon has slept for sixty years. What will happen if your plan should fail? If you wake that beast…"

Gandalf cut him off. "But if we succeed! What if the Dwarves take back the mountain, then our defenses in the east will be strengthened."

"It's a dangerous move, Gandalf."

"It is also dangerous to do nothing! Oh come-the throne of Erebor is Thorin's birthright! What is it you fear?"

Suddenly, another voice, far deeper than the first two, rang out through the night.

"Have you forgotten a strain of madness runs deep in that family," said the new figure that had emerged from shadow. He was a tall, thin man dressed in radiant white. Elwen found that she knew who this man was, with his severe face and long, striking nose. Saruman the White, the greatest and wisest of Gandalf's order.

"His grandfather lost his mind," Saruman continued, and Elwen felt Thorin stiffen next to her. "His father succumbed to the same sickness. Can you swear Thorin Oakenshield will not also fall?"

The trio moved away and as soon as they were out of sight, Thorin bolted. Elwen sighed before throwing herself after him, not having time to process what she'd just heard.

"Thorin, wait!"

She raced after him. Her dress made it difficult to walk quickly, and she swore when she nearly tripped and narrowly missed tumbling into the river.

"Damn dress," she growled, reaching the bridge. "Thorin, just stop for a second! Dammit, STOP!"

Thorin skidded to a stop at the bridges center, his heavy boots loud on the wooden planks. He whirled on her and pinned her with a look so intense it made her hesitate before advancing further.

 _Madness runs deep in that family._ Saruman's harsh words echoed in her mind when she caught sight of the wild look in Thorin's eyes. He was like an animal that had been cornered and she could think of nothing that could sooth him.

The waterfalls steady, rushing sound was the only thing she could hear over the sound of her heavy breathing. She wanted to reach out to him but felt she would be thrown off, so she let her arms hang loose at her side. She wasn't sure she'd ever felt so helpless in all her life.

"Just talk to me, Thorin," she said, her voice desperate in her own ears.

"What do you want me to say?" he spat, every word acid. "I do not want your pity."

"Then it's a good thing I don't pity you then, you bullheaded Dwarf!" she snapped. "I thought you knew me better than that. I thought I knew _you_."

Elwen didn't understand why he was pushing her away. He'd already shared so much about his past with her, why not this? She knew, of course, that it made her a hypocrite. What right did she have to be hurt over Thorin keeping his family shame from her? Thorin wasn't the only one with secrets.

"Thorin," she said, feeling defeated. "I don't care about what the White Wizard said. It doesn't change anything for me. I don't understand why you kept it from me in the first place."

"Of course you don't understand!" His face twisted as if someone had struck him a heavy blow. "You can't know what it's like to bare the shame of those who came before you. To shoulder their failures as if it were your own."

Now it was Elwen who felt as though she'd been struck.

"Just because I was raised an orphan doesn't mean I'm dim," she snarled and advanced across the bridge. She paused, staying at arm's length. "For all I know, I _am_ the family shame. Everyone has one from what I've gathered."

"My grandfather's madness laid waste to my people almost as equally as that dragon did. Don't you see? I am tainted!"

Thorin sounded so hopeless. Elwen couldn't decide whether she wanted to slap him or reach out and hold him.

"That's a load of dragon dung if I've ever heard it. _You_ aren't _them_. It doesn't have to be that way."

Thorin shook his head. He desperately wanted her to understand, it was written all over his face. He also had very little hope that she could, and that stung.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, her voice a little softer. He couldn't meet her eyes.

"What kind of king can I be?" His voice was raw, as if it had been drug over shards of glass. "Why would you risk your life to help someone who may not know his own mind?"

Elwen felt as if her entire body had suddenly gone numb.

"You thought I'd leave the company." It wasn't a question. "You were afraid I wouldn't think you worthy of my loyalty."

Before she met Thorin and company, Elwen hadn't been much for crying. But standing on that bridge, she found the Dwarf King had once again moved her to tears.

"What a fool you are, Thorin Oakenshield. And what a fool I am."

Elwen and Thorin had both been hiding parts of themselves from each other, and for what purpose? To save face? No, it was because they were afraid. Afraid of judgment, of abandonment.

 _I don't want him to hide from me,_ she thought. She looked him full in the face, observing him openly, not caring what he thought. _I want to know everything about him, and if I don't want him hiding, then I can't either._

She closed her eyes. She wondered if God existed in Middle-earth, and if He did, was He listening. She wasn't sure, so she addressed her prayer to the stars whose power she could feel thrumming inside her like a heartbeat. _Help me be brave,_ she thought. _Help me be brave enough to face whatever comes next._

"I'm an Elf, Thorin."

Her voice didn't waver or break. A strange calm fell over her, and she somehow knew that her prayer had been heard.

"Half-Elf, actually. My father's side. Elrond told me the day after we came here."

Thorin flinched hard, taking a step backward before he could stop himself. He didn't look overly shocked, the movement had been instinct more than anything else. But it still hurt.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked hoarsely.

There was no anger in his voice, and none of the surprise and disgust she'd expected. He just looked puzzled and maybe a little wounded.

"You knew," she accused, eyes wide.

Thorin nodded slowly. "I suspected, yes, but I wasn't sure if you'd had it confirmed."

Elwen swore. All these days being wracked with guilt, and for what? He'd basically known all along! Her shoulders slumped.

"Elwen," he said gently, "why didn't you tell me?"

"Why would I?" she asked, incredulous. "You _hate_ Elves. Why would I want to be something you hate?"

Tears once again stung her eyes. She couldn't blink them away.

"See," she choked, "I do understand it, the shame. I didn't tell you because I'm ashamed to be part of a people who betrayed you…"

She didn't want to cry again. She didn't want to stand in front of him, pinned by those haunted blue eyes that saw her far too well. If she didn't get away, she feared she'd break down and beg him not to abandon her. Not with these Elves who she knew, yet didn't know.

Elwen tried shouldering past him, but Thorin caught her before she made it two steps. Struggling was futile; his arms rippled with muscles from years of fighting and working forges, and his hands were large and strong. His grip didn't hurt her. She'd never been held so firmly, yet gently, as if she were something precious.

Thorin pulled her to his chest, one arm around her waist and the other finding its way to her hair. They were standing on the curve of the bridge, which made Elwen a few inches shorter than the Dwarf for once.

She felt her arms go around his middle and she buried her face in his wide, barrel chest. Her head was tucked perfectly beneath his chin.

"No more running," he said, stroking her hair. She loved the way his chest vibrated beneath her cheek when he spoke. She tilted her head and looked into his face and smiled.

"No more hiding," she said.

* * *

Kili walked in the direction in which Thorin and Elwen had set off. He resented that he'd been the one sent to retrieve the pair. Gandalf had shown up not long after they'd gone on their walk, looking very harassed and aggravated. He'd barked for someone to go find Thorin and Elwen. Kili had drawn the short straw.

His gust twisted, thinking about how beautiful Elwen had looked in that damned dress. He hated that he couldn't deny how striking a pair she and Thorin had been as they'd set off together into the night.

Elwen didn't move as if she were dancing beneath the surface of the sea like some Elves. No one would ever call her graceful, not really. But she moved with confidence, like she could face down any foe without so much as wrinkling her dress. And she'd looked even more radiant on Thorin's arm. Thorin brought her to life in a way no one else could, and Kili felt terrible for hating his uncle just a little for it. Without him, she could pass for a beautiful warrior princess. But alongside the King of Erebor? Elwen looked like a queen.

Kili tried to push aside the sickening jealousy burning in his chest. It wasn't fair to Elwen for him to feel like that. He had spoken his peace and all but given his blessing where Thorin was concerned. He'd said he could be her friend, and he would keep his word. Now that he knew her, he couldn't stand the thought of living without her.

Something inside himself called to her. The worst part was knowing that Elwen also heard that call, but it wasn't enough. Thorin's pull was stronger. It was only a matter of time before his uncle felt it too, if he hadn't already.

Kili walked a good ways and was about to give up when he heard Elwen yell. His heart jumped to his throat and he dashed madly forward through the trees, following her voice. What kind of trouble could she possibly get up to in Rivendell? Or were she and Thorin having a row?

He heard the rushing and roaring of the waterfall and skidded to a halt as the bridge came into view. He was just in time to see Elwen folded into the arms of Thorin Oakenshield as if she were made to fit inside them.

It was in this moment that Kili admitted to himself that yes, what he felt for Elwen was love. He was in love with her; she was his One. And it was also in this moment that Elwen Greenlea broke his heart and he came to realize that he would spend the rest of his life alone.

* * *

Thorin smiled down at Elwen. _Mahal, she's beautiful_ , he thought. He let his fingers thread through her hair, which spilled over his rough hand like water. He knew he should let her go, take a step back, but he couldn't. She felt so perfect pressed against him, as if every bit of her had been stitched together to fit him and only him.

 _No more hiding_ , she had said. But what had they been hiding from? Themselves? Each other? Probably both.

"You don't hate me for being half-Elf?" she asked in a small voice. She could barely meet his eyes.

It disarmed him, seeing Elwen so vulnerable. She was normally so hard and self-assured, wearing her attitude like armor. Though she was small, even by human standards, she stood taller than almost everyone he knew.

 _She has the baring of royalty,_ he realized. Even when she was afraid, she rarely showed it, but the fear was plain on her face now. It didn't matter how tenderly he held her; Elwen needed the words.

"I could never hate you, Elwen Greenlea. You are not responsible for all the wrongs of your race."

"But Lord Elrond is?" she asked.

"Lord Elrond did not stand with me during a battle we could not win," he remembered how ferocious she had looked facing down the Orc pack. "You did."

Elwen grinned a little and shook her head, muttering something about the stubbornness of Dwarves.

"It's Greenleaf, by the way," she said. "My name. It's Elwen Greenleaf."

Thorin repeated the name, fully aware that it sounded like a prayer coming from his lips.

"It suits you," he said.

He reached up and cradled her cheek gently. How long had he wanted to do that? How long had he wondered about the texture of her skin? It was as smooth as he thought it would be. What would her lips feel like?

He wasn't sure when the tension between them had reached such a height, but he felt it pulled tightly, like a cord ready to snap. Their eyes locked and he felt as if someone had given him a light pinch. His breath hitched in his chest and the hand around her waist tightened a fraction.

Thorin didn't know who leaned first, but soon their lips were so close he could feel the heat of her breath on his. He knew he should probably pull away, but he couldn't. It was like they were being pushed together and this had been inevitable no matter how much they fought. And oh, how they had fought. From the moment they'd laid eyes on one another, a battle had raged. Thorin wasn't sure he had any fight left inside him.

His nose grazed her cheek and his lips were so close to grazing hers…

"Thorin! Where are you?"

The spell shattered.

Thorin and Elwen sprang apart and stared at each other, the full weight of what had almost happened crashing over them like a great wave.

Kili walked onto the bridge.

"There you are! I've been looking all over for you."

The young Dwarf stopped short when he saw them. Thorin looked away from the intensity of Elwen's stare and turned his attention to his nephew.

"Am I interrupting something?" Kili asked flatly.

Thorin shook his head and moved around Elwen, careful not to so much as let his arm brush hers. He didn't think he could stand it.

"Is something the matter?"

Kili clearly didn't believe Thorin but knew better than to say so aloud. Instead he shrugged and said, "Gandalf wanted me to fetch you."

"We're coming," Thorin said. "Elwen has something to tell the others anyway."

She shot him a filthy look.

"You can keep secrets, but I can't?" she hissed.

"The sickness of my family is no secret from my men," he said in a hushed tone as they followed Kili down the path.

"Just a secret from me, then," she said gloomily.

He reached out and took her hand, giving it a light squeeze, quickly dropping it before Kili might see.

"You know now, and that's all that matters," he kept his voice low. "The company cares for you, Elwen. Do not keep them in the dark."

Her face softened a fraction. "Okay," she whispered. "I trust you."

* * *

Gandalf wasn't at the camp when the trio emerged. He'd claimed to be in need of a stiff drink and said he'd be back in a bit to see if the Dwarves managed to locate their leader. This meant there was no reason for Elwen to put off the inevitable, so she'd asked them all to gather round the still roaring fire and she told them her tale. She kept her eyes focused on the flames and spoke quickly, making sure they listened carefully because she had no intention of repeating anything.

The members of Thorin Oakenshield's company looked at one another shrewdly when she finally trailed off. Elwen felt her palms begin to sweat as she chanced a glance at the folk she had come to think of as family. Would they forgive her silence as readily as Thorin had? She could only hope.

A grin split Bofur's face. He turned to Bombur, palm out, and said "Pay up, brother," rather cheerily.

Elwen's jaw dropped as she watched several pouches of coin change hands.

"Damn," Dwalin swore as he handed over his purse to Fili. "I was sure it would take a full fortnight."

"Wha…you…how?!" Elwen stammered, looking at Thorin with desperate confusion. He chuckled and moved to sit beside her, their shoulders brushing.

"Give us some credit," said Fili with a wink. "We aren't trolls. It wasn't difficult to figure."

"Aye lass," interjected Bofur. "You suddenly speakin' Elvish was a dead giveaway."

Elwen's shoulders sagged.

"So, you aren't mad at me?" she asked, hating how timid she sounded. "For keeping it from you?"

The Dwarves all looked at each other, then back to her.

"We can't really blame you," said Kili. "We haven't exactly been subtle about our mistrust of Elves."

"What about me? Do you mistrust me because I'm an Elf?" She bit the inside of her cheek.

Thorin reached out and squeezed her shoulder. "You have my trust, totally and completely," he looked around at his men. "Are there any who feel differently?"

It was silent for a moment. Elwen's stomach tightened, but soon smiles spread across bearded faces. Fili surprised her by lifting her from the ground and spinning her around. She laughed when he planted a big, wet kiss on her cheek.

"You saved Kili's hide out on the plains," he said cheerfully. "That makes you alright in my book."

"Here, here!" cheered Nori, Dori, Ori, and Bofur.

"You've earned your place among us," Dwalin said begrudgingly, as if he were none too happy about being proven wrong.

Balin simply chuckled and gave her an encouraging nod.

Elwen found herself blinking back tears and thanking the powers at be that she'd found herself in such a merry little company as this.

It wasn't long until Gandalf made his way back to camp. The pleasant flush in his cheek made Elwen think he'd found that drink he'd gone after.

"Oh good," said Gandalf. "I see you've found Thorin and Miss Greenlea."

"Greenleaf," Bofur corrected.

"I beg your pardon?" Gandalf turned to Elwen in surprise.

"Her name is Greenleaf," Thorin clarified, his voice a rumble in his chest, "but you already knew that."

Gandalf's eyes twinkled in that way of his.

"I'm very glad you told them," said the Wizard, sounding proud. He then turned to Thorin, his face growing serious. "There has been a change of plans."

Gandalf quickly explained the situation to the company. The White Council had gathered and were none too happy with the idea of Dwarves marching on the Lonely Mountain. They would be meeting again just before sunrise, and Gandalf suggested to Thorin that he and his company might want to be gone before that meeting concluded, lest the find themselves unable to go.

"I'd love to see them try to stop our leaving," Dwalin muttered, and Elwen agreed. Gandalf ignored them.

"Wait in the mountains until I am able to catch up to you," said the Wizard. "I will follow when my business in Rivendell is concluded."

After Gandalf left, Thorin turned to the group gravely.

"We leave at first light," said their leader. "Let's break camp and restore our supplies. Remain cautious; we do not want to arouse suspicion."

Elwen had to admit that the Dwarves of Erebor could clean with the best of them when they wanted. She'd insisted they not leave the clearing in shambles, so they set to fixing it up with the same speed and efficiency they'd shown back at Bag End. They wouldn't even let her help.

"We have a rough day ahead tomorrow, so I suggest everyone get some sleep while they can," Thorin ordered once they'd finished.

Elwen bid the group goodnight and headed toward her rooms. She needed to pack her things.

"I'll walk you, if that's alright," Thorin said, taking her elbow. She smiled and let herself be lead toward her chambers.

When they arrived at her door, Elwen invited Thorin inside.

"You really should see the view from the balcony since I doubt there will ever be another opportunity."

Thorin hesitated on the threshold, but eventually nodded and allowed her to lead him out onto the balcony.

They stood in relative silence for a while, just leaning against the railing and looking out over the river and trees below. Elwen had to admit that she would miss Imladris and all the beauty the valley had to offer. She felt as though she could have explored every day for a decade and could not discover all of Rivendell's hidden secrets.

She would, however, be equally glad to put the place behind her. It was unsettling, not being able to round a corner without having the sneaking suspicion she had once walked those same roads only to have the memory slip away. Someday she would find her way back to the halls of Elrond, she was sure of it, and perhaps next time she would be better equipped to be faced with her past.

"I saw you here," Thorin said suddenly, quietly. "The first night. With Kili."

Elwen started, looking over at the pensive Dwarf beside her. She couldn't tell what he was thinking. Thorin normally wore his emotions so readily on his face, but right at that moment he was staring out over the valley, his face smooth as polished stone.

"He's a very good friend," she hedged, watching him closely. "He and Fili. They were the first to make me feel at home here."

Thorin looked at her with tired, somber eyes.

"He cares for you," he said softly. "At least he thinks he does."

Elwen raised an eyebrow, her hand on her hips.

"Is this the part where you tell me to stay away from your nephew?" she joked, but he didn't smile.

"I would never stand in the way of your happiness."

Elwen's arms dropped to her side, her mouth parting in surprise. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words were forthcoming. Thorin plowed on.

"I have to ask you," he said a little louder than necessary. "I know you've found your people and probably wish to stay, but,-"

"No, I don't," she blurted, her tongue finally working.

"Elwen, you should think about it."

"I don't need to." She shook her head. The idiocy of Dwarves would never cease to amaze her. "I'm coming with you. Elrond said I'd find my answers closer to our journeys end, so to the end I go. Besides," she smiled, "I said I'd help you with that flying rat, and this half-Elf keeps her promises."

Thorin brightened, a rare smile spreading across his usually stern face. The beauty of it made her heart skip a beat.

"I should go," he said and she nodded. She still needed to ready herself for departure.

She led him back through her chambers and into the corridor, but called his name just as he was beginning to walk away.

"About Kili…"

"You don't owe me an explanation," he said, holding up a hand.

"He's _just_ a friend," she continued. "He's not…I mean…you…Oh, Thorin…"

She didn't know what to say. An awkward silence followed and Elwen avoided looking directly at him. Finally she heard Thorin sigh.

"Today has been…long," he said. _Tell me about it_ , she thought. "Tomorrow will be even longer. I will leave you to get some rest. We can talk about this when things are a little more settled, if you still want to."

Elwen nodded dumbly. He hesitated, however, as if he suddenly couldn't decide whether or not he truly wanted to leave.

Thorin stepped forward and reached for her hand, pulling it up to her lips. "Goodnight, Elwen," he said huskily. "Sleep well." He then placed a tender kiss on her knuckles. His lips were warm and firm, and she very much wished to know what they would feel like if they brushed her own.

"Sleep well," she whispered and watched him go.

After he faded out of sight, Elwen sighed heavily and went into her chambers for the last time. When she entered her bedroom, prepared to begin packing for her journey, she spied several items already laid out on her blankets.

That was odd; Elwen was positive she hadn't left anything out. When she drew near the bed, she gasped, gazing down at the items in front of her.

A pair of short swords, or perhaps long daggers, lay across the white duvet, cased in sturdy leather sheathes decorated elaborately with what appeared to be a map of the stars. Someone had taken great pains to intricately carve in the constellations, and the result was dazzling.

Elwen unsheathed one of the swords. The grip was smooth except for a notch which seemed to have been made to fit her hand perfectly. The blades were long and slightly curved toward the tip. There was no guard or pummel, just a smooth hilt set in silver and gold. There were constellations also etched into the hilt of the blade and she couldn't help but smile. She placed the sword back in its home and turned to the next item. There was a knife as well, an exact replica of the two swords.

It was then she saw the bow and quiver full of arrows. It was a long bow, a grey-silver in color, and somehow she knew the wood had come from Mallorn heartwood. Elwen realized that the weapons in front of her were gifts from the Lady of Lorien, and she felt very touched.

Elwen had also been given two sets of clothes; green tunics, practical brown breaches and underclothes all packed away snugly in the bottom of a leather satchel. On top of the clothes were several loaves of bread wrapped in leaves and a few apples, pears, and even a hunk of cheese.

It seemed that their departure would not be as unexpected as they'd originally believed.

Elwen smiled and put her things next to the bed after dressing in a pair of her new clothes. She crawled beneath the blankets fully clothed as to be ready first thing.

It did not take long for sleep to find her. She drifted away to the sound of the river as it flowed outside her open window. Her dreams were strange that night. Though she did not dream of death and destruction, for which she was thankful, she still had a feeling there was meaning behind what she saw.

 _She was standing on the face of a cliff, overlooking a battle field. She didn't look down to see what or who was moving below, but kept her eyes on the sky. The sun was setting, and a great cry drew her eyes toward a mountain. A single solitary peek._

 _The Eagles are here,_ she thought _. My purpose is fulfilled, and now I can rest._

 **Authors Note: Hi there Lords and Lassies! I'm terribly sorry it's been so long since my last update. Life gets in the way.**

 **I've got a question to pose to you all, dear readers. As you know, I'm trying not to get caught up with myself in terms of this story. I am trying to make sure I'm ahead in the writing, but that's becoming a little harder. So, I'm going to leave this up to you all. Would you rather have weekly updates of the chapters I have so far (up to about 19 I believe) and if I get caught up to myself, I just write and update as I can, or would you rather me stay ahead in the writing even if that means I don't update weekly? Let me know what you think!**

 **Also, something else came to my attention in a private message. I won't call out the reviewer, and I would honestly like to thank him/her for addressing this to me in a private message instead of a review, it's much appreciated. But it appears that this person didn't like my deviating from Tolkien's mythology. Here's the thing; I've been studying Tolkien for years, and yes I know that A LOT of what I've written is a direct departure from much of his mythos. I'm doing it on purpose for the sake of the story. I know I'm doing it. I'm not going to stop doing it. I need to make a modern character fit into this world, and to make the story work the way I need it to, I'm gonna be ignoring a lot of Tolkien's rules that he's set up for the universe. I can do that because it's my story, and this is fanfiction! I'm writing this purely for fun with no other intent behind it other than to tell a fun, fantastical story that hopefully you all will enjoy. If a departure from Tolkien's universe is going to bother you, I totally understand, but this fanfiction is not the one for you. I'm sure there are others out there that will be more faithful. I hope this clears up some confusion.**

 **Now, on to you lovely, lovely readers!**

 **Lady Lucky Heartfillia: Thank you so so much! I very much appreciate the kind words! I hope you enjoy this new chapter and please feel free to drop a line or two again!**

 **Quen MariaTheresia: You're a doll! I do feel much better, but Bronchitis is no joke! 10/10 do not recommend haha! Thank you so so much for the kind words. I painstakingly write and edit these chapters, so it make me feel great when someone tells me they were well written. So glad you liked the interaction between Elwen and Thorin. Hopefully chapter 11 did not disappoint! And omg her visions, I know. Hope you like where I'm taking the story where those are concerned!**

 **Pallysdeeks: Thank you! I feel much much better haha! Finally stopped coughing. I am SO hoping you like where I take things between Elwen/Kili/Thorin. I think I'm definitely going to break some hearts by the end of this story!**

 **AlyssaInNeverland: Thank you for the review and I really can't wait to see what you think of chapter 11!**

 **Alright folks, I'm going to leave off for now. Please keep the reviews coming, they are helpful and inspiring! Thank you all for your time, and for your well wishes when I was ill. You're all amazing!**

 **Cheers- L**


	12. Chapter 12 Thunder Battle

**Chapter 12 Thunder Battle**

The stars were just beginning to wink out like dying candles when the company set out for the Misty Mountains. Elwen's heart was heavy as she stood next to Bilbo Baggins and watched as the sun bathed Rivendell with the gold of first light.

"Do you think we'll ever come back?" asked the Hobbit.

Bilbo was once again shouldering his heavy gear, which made him appear as if he were going to topple over any second. Elwen had thought perhaps he would not continue on and choose to stay with the Elves. No one would have been surprised, and she, at least, would not have thought less of him. She, too, felt the pull of the valley below.

Even if it was only a bit, enough light had been shed on her past to give her the barest sliver of hope. At least now she knew her name, what race she belonged to, and where she'd lived for the first five years of life. _I even know how old I am_ , she thought wryly. Twenty-five wasn't too bad considering she might have been one hundred years old and not known it. _That_ would have been awkward.

"I think so, yeah," Elwen replied, looking down fondly at her small friend. Bilbo looked up at her with watery blue eyes and when he smiled, she felt the truth of her words in her heart.

 _The Hobbit seemed to change before her very eyes. His hair grew grey, then stringy and white. His shoulders stooped, his fingers gnarled like tree roots and withered with age. She saw him sitting in a large, comfortable chair next to a roaring fire, and he was reading aloud to a man she did not know. His light brown hair brushed his shoulders and he had a kind smile ready for the old Hobbit as he listened. The man looked up as if he'd sensed another presence in the room. For a moment, his light, sky blue eyes met hers._

" _Hello, wanderer," he said._

" _Who are you?" she whispered._

 _He responded only with a smile._

 _She took in his entire person. His clothes were not the simply clothes of a traveler. He wore leather armor and weapons on his person and a heavy cloak with a hood made for hiding._

Ranger _, a voice whispered inside of her._ Dunedain _._

 _She almost asked him again who he was when something silver at the base of his throat caught her eye. A pendant around his neck that shined far too brightly, as if it were made of starlight. The Evenstar._

Elwen blinked, the light of the star fading before her eyes. She was back on the narrow ledge etched into the side of a mountain, overlooking Imladris. The pendant she had seen, the Evanstar. How had she known that? And who was that man listening to Bilbo tell his tales? The old Hobbit had been Bilbo, she was sure of that much. Had it been a vision? Her foresight giving her a glimpse into a possible future? Elwen didn't know, and decided to put it out of her mind for the time being.

"Be on your guard," Thorin warned the company. "We're about to step over the edge of the wild. Balin, you know these paths. Lead on."

"Aye," Balin assented, taking his position at the lead of the company.

Elwen and Bilbo both took one last longing look at Rivendell, each saying their silent goodbyes to its burbling waterfalls and golden light.

"Master Baggins, Miss Greenleaf," Thorin called to them gruffly. "I suggest you keep up."

Elwen whipped around and gave him a look so filthy it could have pealed paint from walls. She flashed him a rude hand gesture and then patted Bilbo on the shoulder.

"I suggest you bite me!" she replied with false cheer.

A ripple of laughter moved through the group, and Thorin's lips twitched but did not quite turn upward. He turned and continued his march.

It seemed that whatever spell had been placed upon him in Rivendell was broken now. It left everything that had happened the night before feeling like a dream, and Elwen suddenly felt very sorry for herself.

"Let's go Bilbo," she said sadly, and they fell in with the rest of the company.

Elwen left the Last Homely House behind and set off into the wild to meet whatever it was that destiny had in store for her.

* * *

The company traveled deep into the Misty Mountains as the day wore on. They took rocky, narrow paths that lead them over the tops of peaks and onto craggy paths. It took a great deal of concentration to walk and not plummet to her death, so there wasn't much chatting going on, which meant there was far too much thinking going on for Elwen's liking.

She tried not to think too much about Thorin. If she thought about him, she found herself fighting the urge to run to him and either embrace, or kick him in the stones and send him rolling off a cliff.

He hadn't said two words to her in hours. The night before, Thorin had held her in his arms like she was something cherished, but today it was as if it had never happened. Elwen knew he was a complicated man prone to moodiness, not to mention the temper. But she had thought that maybe, just maybe…

Elwen shook her head. None of it mattered. She had a job to do; get rid of a dragon, take back an ancient Kingdom, and most importantly, keep those three idiot Sons of Durin alive. And, if she had time between all of this, perhaps she'd even find some clue about her parents. She _really_ didn't have time for romance drama.

It was past mid-day and Thorin was still driving them hard. Everyone was starting to grow hungry and more than a little tired, but no one was brave enough to ask their leader to call a halt. Well, almost no one.

"Hey!" Elwen shouted from her spot on the line. "Prince Princey McBroody Pants! Can we take a fifteen minute breather to eat something and, I dunno, sit down?"

Thorin ignored her. Her brows knitted together in annoyance. Elwen did _not_ like being ignored.

"Okay, have it your way, you stubborn boulder with hair!" she heckled. Bofur pretended to have a coughing fit when he laughed. "If one of us passes out from hunger or fatigue and roll down a mountain, our death will be on your head."

Thorin whirled and pinned her with a stare that would have made a lesser man qual. Elwen glared right back with equal fervor. He wanted to pretend like nothing had happened between them? Fine, she'd let him have that. But he would not simply pretend she wasn't there. That wasn't going to fly.

Thorin made a noise that sounded like someone slowly letting the air out of a balloon. He could see this wasn't a fight he was going to win, and Elwen had to bite back a smirk.

"We'll stop for a little while," he conceded begrudgingly. "Eat, rest, and be ready to move when I say. We will not stop again for some time." With one last look at Elwen, Thorin stomped off and joined Dwalin and a few of the other Dwarves where they settled.

Elwen was so angry that she dropped her satchel, pulled her bow off her back so as not to sit on it, and sank down to the dirt right where she'd been standing. She thought about unhooking the belt that kept her quiver and swords on her back, but decided she was too tired for even that much effort.

She pulled out a loaf of the bread that had been packed for her and glared down at it. She knew she was acting petulant, but she didn't know what else to do. She was pissed, and it was either sit and sulk or go over and give Thorin a piece of her mind. So she sat, and she was determined to sulk.

A low whistle brought her out of her angry haze and she peered up, needing to block out the sun with her hand. Fili was looking down at her with a grin, braided mustache practically wiggling in amusement.

"That bread must have said something rather nasty about your near relations," he said and she couldn't help but laugh at Middle-earth's version of a 'your momma' joke.

"Your uncle is a pig headed boar," she said, and he nodded. She motioned him to sit, and he plopped down, jostling her with his elbow a bit.

"You aren't exactly the most reasonable person I've ever met either, to be honest," Fili teased, and she punched him. He rubbed his arm and flicked her nose.

"Keep it up and I'll show you how unreasonable I can be," she warned, but there was no bite in it. She broke her bread and offered him half, which he took gratefully.

They ate in silence for a moment. It was a little strange, sitting with only Fili. She looked around and saw Kili chatting with Bilbo and giving him what appeared a quick lesson with his short sword. It was Kili who she was used to paling around with, not that Fili wasn't perfectly good company. She caught Fili giving her a sideways look, and she reached over and gently tugged his beard.

"I'm fine, Fili," she said, sighing.

"Tell that to the bread you were looking at murderously," he said, half joking. When she didn't say anything, it was his turn to sigh. "Kili saw you and Thorin on the bridge." His voice lost its teasing tone.

Elwen gaped, her face burning.

"Fili, look, I don't know what he thinks he saw, but-"

"It's not my feelings you're trying to spare, Elwen," he said softly, smiling. "It's very kind of you, but Kili will have to deal with this in his own way. You, however, don't seem to be dealing with it very well at all."

Fili gave her a meaningful look. She didn't have it in her to argue anymore.

"He's acting like nothing happened," she said in a near whisper. "I get that this probably isn't the time but…I guess it just hurts a little."

Fili wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "I know he's a bit of an…um…"

"Obstinate ass?"

Fili laughed. "That works, yes," he chuckled. "I do know one thing for sure though, Elwen, and it's that he doesn't mean to hurt you. I think Thorin is just trying to deal with how he feels the only way he knows how. Give him some time."

Elwen peered over at him. "And what about Kili?" she asked quietly.

Fili squeezed her shoulder. "I hate to see my little brother hurting, but you can't help how you feel. Lying to yourself would end with everyone hurting, and no one wants that."

"It's not that I don't care about him," she said honestly. "I'm not entirely sure how I feel about Kili, to be honest. It's all very confusing."

"I've heard finding your One can be a stressful process," he shrugged.

Elwen went absolutely still. My One?

"Do Elves have Ones?"

"I don't know much about the way Elves court," he said apologetically, shrugging. "But I know that some Dwarves do, and I think that's what's happening now, for both Kili and Thorin. Not exactly the most convenient time…"

"You don't say," Elwen drawled, and Fili laughed.

"Alright everyone; on your feet!" Thorin thundered to get their attention. Elwen had to fight the urge to flip him the bird.

Fili pulled her to her feet and flicked her nose again. "It's all going to turn out alright, so don't worry that strange little head of yours," he promised.

"You can't possible know that, braid-face," she retorted.

"I just have a feeling, is all," he said, then grimaced. "Not saying it's going to be easy, but you know, what worth anything has ever come easy?"

Elwen smiled as Fili walked away to gather up the rest of his things and bully Kili into moving faster. When the company was once again on the march, Kili saddled up to her and cast a suspicious look.

"What was it you were chatting with my brother about so seriously?" he asked.

"I was telling her about the time I caught you wearing one of Ma's dresses," Fili replied.

Bilbo could barely hold back her laughter, and Elwen didn't bother trying.

"He's lying!" Kili said quickly, but his face fell when he saw that Elwen clearly wasn't buying what he was trying to sell. He groaned. "I wasn't even twenty! You can't hold it against me!"

The rest of the day went by in Fili, Kili, and Bilbo's company. They all swapped embarrassing stories about their childhoods, gave one another well-earned ribbings, and Elwen didn't even notice the time passing and the light fading. Their peals of laughter echoed in the mountains, and only ceased when interrupted by the rumbling of thunder in the distance.

"A storm," Fili observed, ever the one to state the obvious. Elwen rolled her eyes.

"A nasty one, by the looks of it," Bilbo commented, giving the dark, rolling clouds a tentative glance.

Elwen bit her lip and looked around. They were in the middle of nowhere, on top of some dangerous, rocky-ass mountains, and they were soon going to not only lose the light, but have to cross in a thunder storm. She groaned. What else could possibly go wrong?

* * *

Damn her. Damn her, damn her, damn her. She had to ask. She just _had_ to wonder what else could possibly go wrong. Well, a whole bloody lot, that's what!

Night had fully fallen on Elwen and the company as a potent and powerful storm blew through and hit them with the force of Thor's hammer. The terrain seemed to grow steadily more dangerous as the storm became wilder. The trail had narrowed to a strip of rock with a cliff on one side and a sheer drop on the other and it was all Elwen could do to keep her footing.

The rain was blinding and the wind bashed them against the rocks. The lightning flashed all around them, and Elwen thought that if they didn't plummet to their deaths, surely they'd find themselves barbequed.

"Hold on!" Thorin shouted over the storm.

It was then the stone beneath Bilbo's furry feet crumbled away. He started falling into the chasm below, but Dwalin and Bofur each reached out and hauled the Halfling back to safety.

"We must find shelter!" cried Thorin.

"NO SHIT!" Elwen shrieked.

"Watch out!"

Elwen had never heard Dwalin sound so startled. She and the others looked up to see a massive boulder hurtling through the air. It hit the side of the mountainside above them with a mighty crash. Rocks rained down upon them and they were forced to press themselves as close as they possibly could to the side of the cliff.

"This is no thunderstorm; it's a thunder battle!" Balin pointed into the storm. "Look!"

Elwen could have sworn that her heart stopped and restarted on the inside of a second, and then jumped straight into her throat. She couldn't even scream.

Out of the haze of rain and wind, the mountainside took on anthropomorphic shape and began to move. The bloody damn mountain _moved_.

Elwen had dealt with a lot during her time in Middle-earth. She'd almost been eaten by trolls, chased all over creation by a pack of Orcs, found out she was part of an ancient magical and immortal race, and had almost been kissed by a Dwarf King. But the moving mountain was too much. She froze, god-smacked, as the giant creature ripped off a massive bolder from the top of the mountain.

"Well bless me," Bofur said in pure astonishment, "the legends are true. Giants! Stone Giants!"

The Giant roared, reared back and lobbed the boulder. Elwen watched as it arced through the air and slammed into the head of yet another Giant that appeared from behind them. It fell back into the mountain, causing the rocks beneath them to shake.

"Take cover! You'll fall!" cried Thorin.

Everyone was beginning to panic. The rock beneath their feet began to crumble, and they were forced against the mountain. Fili grabbed hold of her and pulled her closely, keeping her as far away from the edge as possible.

"What's happening?" Kili asked as the ground started vibrating. It was the mountain splitting apart!

"Kili! Grab my hand! Kili!" Fili was shouting for his brother.

"Elwen!" Kili screamed. "Fili!"

Their eyes met, terrified. The company was soon separated, half finding themselves clinging to what appeared to be the knee of a Giant, and half on the other knee. They all hung on tightly as they were flung around. As the Giant they were riding fell to the side, Kili, Thorin, and the others were able to able to jump to a stable spot. Elwen, Fili, Bilbo, and the rest, were still on the Giant.

 _I'm going to die_ , she thought as the rock swayed beneath her. _I've come all this way and now I'm gonna be smashed by a rock transformer_. It wasn't the way she pictured it all ending.

A war of sorts raged as three separate Giants battled for dominance. One Giant swung wide, catching another on what would have been a chin, causing it to lose its footing and fall down the cavern. Then it turned on their Giant. It lobbed a huge boulder, and Elwen's eyes went wide as it smashed into the others head, completely detaching it from the body. Fili held her close as their Giant, now beheaded, swayed.

"Hold on!" Fili cried. She clung to a rock with one hand, the front of Fili's tunic with another. Their giant was falling forward toward the cliff.

Elwen didn't even have time to scream as the rock came rushing toward her. _I'm going die,_ she thought again. _I'm going to die, and I never told him…_

They smashed into the side of the mountain.

* * *

"NO!" Thorin cried hoarsely.

He began to run. He hopped clumsily over the crumbled rock, holding on to the side of the mountain for balance.

"No! Fili! Elwen!"

It felt as though someone had closed a heavy fist around his throat. Fear gripped him in a way that left him unable to think of anything other than, _please please please_ …

Thorin had gone all day ignoring Elwen. After what had transpired on the bridge, going back to their casual banter and interactions had seemed impossible. He was afraid that if he drew too near to her, he would be tempted to reach out and grab her hand, or brush the hair from her face. He knew marching across the Wilds wasn't the place for those type of intimacies, but he'd be lying if that were his only reason for hesitating.

Thorin wasn't sure exactly what it was that he was feeling for Elwen. He had spent so much of the past six decades etching out a new life for his people and dedicating his entire existence to them and their wellbeing that matters of the heart had not been at the forefront.

It wasn't that he'd not been around females, because he had, but none had ever captured his attention the way that Elwen had. She wasn't impressed that he was the rightful King Under the Mountain, nor did she treat him any differently than she did the rest of the company. She wasn't afraid to express her displeasure, even violently, and she wasn't intimidated by him. Even more than her beauty, which he wasn't blind to, it was these things that drew him to her.

And then there was Kili, his youngest nephew, who was pushing his way over the rocks and screaming her name right along with him.

Thorin rounded a curve, preparing himself for the worst, and was met with the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen. The half of the company that had seemingly been smashed to bits against the face of the mountain laid in a pile on a ledge that been just wide enough to accommodate them all.

He roved his eyes over his friends until they fell on Fili. He was curled on his side, head tucked in, and was cradling someone close to his chest. His head popped up and when he assessed that it was safe, he pulled Elwen up too, both of them looking stunned to be alive. Elwen cried out and threw her arms around Thorin's eldest nephew in relief.

She looked up and caught Thorin's eyes. Her feline-like toothy smile lit her face with a radiant glow that left him wondering how he had ever not known that she was some magical creature. She was so much more than human. She laughed when she caught sight of his relief, and he laughed and smiled along with her.

"We're alright!" she shouted happily. "We're alive!"

"Elwen! Fili!" Kili cried, elbowing his way past Thorin.

Kili stepped around the others who were struggling to their feet until he reached her side. He pulled her and his brother into a one armed embrace, and then set about to making sure they weren't injured. Thorin watched as his nephew held Elwen's face between his hands and turned her head to each side, taking in every scrape and bruise, making sure they weren't life threatening.

Thorin had never seen Kili take such care with anyone or anything. For the first time in his young nephew's life, Thorin was beginning to look at him as a man instead of a young Dwarfling. Seeing Kili cradle Elwen close made Thorin need to look away. He began helping Dwalin to his feet to avoid the sight, his chest beginning to ache. He felt like he'd lost something that hadn't even been truly his.

"Where's Bilbo?" Elwen said suddenly, pushing Kili's hands away. She looked around frantically. "Where's the Hobbit?"

"There!" Ori pointed over the side of the cliff.

The Halfling was hanging onto the edge by his fingertips. Ori and Bofur both dived onto the ground and reached for Bilbo's arm, but the Hobbit slipped a few more feet before grabbing another handhold. He was too far down now for anyone to reach down and pull him up. There was nothing for it.

Just as Thorin was about to swing down, Elwen breezed past him and dropped dramatically over the side of the cliff. She found foot and handholds, and swung out to grab him by his pack. She pushed up with all of her strength, and with Bilbo's help pulling himself up, she was able to push up high enough for Bofur to haul him the rest of the way up.

Thorin reached out for Elwen's hand. Their fingers brushed, but her eyes went wide; the rocks gave way and she lost her footing. Thorin shouted and lunged forward, able to grab her forearm. She cried out in pain as she dangled in the air, unable to find footing or another place to grab. Thank Mahal the girl was light and Thorin was able to pull her up one handed with little effort.

Elwen collapsed into his chest, shaking like a leaf in the wind. Thorin checked her arm to make sure he'd not pulled it out of place, but she shook out her shoulder saying that it was just sore. He put a relieved arm around her waist and pulled her close to his side, unwilling to let her go. He looked up and saw Kili watching them with curious eyes, and Thorin looked away.

"Thank you," Elwen whispered, grabbing the fur of his coat. He looked down at her and had to resist the urge to place a kiss on her forehead.

"I thought we'd lost our burglar," Dwalin said breathlessly.

"He's been lost ever since he left home," Thorin growled angrily. He had almost cost them Elwen because of his inability to take care of himself. They had told him that the Wild was no place for soft folk. "He should never have come. He has no place amongst us."

Elwen dropped her arms. "You're awful," she whispered harshly, and moved toward Bilbo. She dropped down to her knee and put an arm on the Halflings shoulder.

Thorin swallowed his shame and shook his head. Perhaps he was harsh, but no more than the terrain itself, and the Hobbit had yet to prove himself. Elwen had almost fallen to her death saving him. Thorin's eyes hardened.

There was a path leading further into the mountains. "Dwalin," Thorin beckoned, and the two followed the path until the came to a seemingly abandoned cave.

"It looks safe enough," Dwalin said.

"Search to the back; caves in the mountains are seldom unoccupied."

It didn't take Dwalin long to search the cave and confirm that they were indeed alone. The company began unloading their things and finding a place to settle down in for the night.

Gloin dropped a bundle of wood on the floor. Trust it to him to pack dry wood. "Right then!" he said, rubbing his hands together. "Let's get a fire started."

"No," said Thorin. "No fires. Not in this place. Get set some sleep, we start at first light."

"We were to wait in the mountains until Gandalf joined us," Balin reminded him. "That was the plan."

"Plans change," Thorin said meaningfully. "Bofur, take the first watch."

Thorin pulled Orcrist from its place strapped over his back and prepared for sleep. He was about to sit down when he felt a small finger poke him between the shoulder blades. He turned around to see a very angry Elwen glaring at him with sharp silver eyes.

"The back of the cave," she growled. "Now."

She turned away and headed deeper into the cave, not bothering to look to see if he followed. She knew he would. When they stopped, Thorin folded his arms across his chest and did his best to return her glower. He was still so relieved that she hadn't been turned into Elf-jam by Stone Giants that it was difficult to be irritated with her.

"Why do you have to be so mean to Bilbo?" she asked hotly. "It wasn't his fault, what happened on the mountain! It could have been any of us. He was in an unlucky spot, that's all."

"Elwen, Bilbo just isn't cut out for a journey like this. He would be better off going back to Rivendell," Thorin ground out. Maybe it wasn't as difficult as he thought to be annoyed with her.

"Elrond asked him stay, you know," Elwen snapped.

"What?" Thorin's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Why didn't he ?"

"Because he signed your stupid contract! Because he wanted to keep his word!" She did her best not to yell, not wanting to be heard by the others. "You're so ungrateful!"

"Elwen, enough," he took a step toward her, reaching out and touching her hand. "I'm sorry if you're upset about today, but-"

She yanked her fingers away. "Don't you dare," she whispered harshly. "This isn't about me! You were terrible to Bilbo in front of the entire company for something that wasn't his fault. You're a lot of things, Thorin, but I didn't think you were cruel."

Thorin would have felt better had she reached out and slapped him. He took a deep breath before turning away from her.

"Get some rest, Elwen," he said, doing his best to keep the hurt from his voice and failing. He was exhausted and soaked to the bone. He had no more energy for this conversation at present.

"Bilbo is going to surprise you someday, you overgrown bearded stump!" She poked him in the back again, hard, before storming off past him into the main part of the cave. Thorin followed her doggedly.

Elwen sank down in her usual spot between Fili and Kili. They both turned to her with questioning glances, but she only glared over at him in answer. Kili looked up to Thorin and shook his head, then looked back to Elwen. The three soon laid down, Elwen cuddling into Kili's side. The latter wrapped a protective arm around her and pulled her closely.

Thorin bit back the curse working its way up his throat. _It was for the best_ , he thought. But the jealousy burning in his chest told him he didn't really believe what he was thinking. He sat down on the wall opposite to her and leaned against the stone and closed his eyes. He drifted into a light sleep, the sound of her angry voice echoing in his mind.

* * *

Thorin was awoken from a blessedly dreamless sleep by the sound of movement. He opened his eyes only a fraction and saw Bilbo trying to sneak toward the mouth of the cave without waking anyone. He had his pack strapped to his back and walking stick in hand.

Thorin guffawed. The ridiculous Halfling wouldn't last a day out there on his own.

"Where do you think you're going?" whispered Bofur as the Hobbit tried to sneak past him. Bilbo stopped and gave Bofur an annoyed look.

"Back to Rivendell," replied Bilbo.

This, it seemed, was enough to rouse another member of the company. Thorin spied Elwen wiggling out of Kili's arms, gently so as not to wake the sleeping Dwarf, and walk over to the mouth of the cave.

"You can't leave, Bilbo," she reasoned. "It isn't safe out there on your own."

"That," Bofur nodded rigorously, now on his feet, "and you just can't turn back now! You're a part of the company. You're one of us."

Bilbo gave them a skeptical look. "I'm not though, am I?" he said. "Thorin said I should never have come, and he was right."

Thorin felt the stab of guilt. He knew he had been hard on the Hobbit, and maybe Elwen had been right. Perhaps he'd gone too far.

"I'm not a Took, I'm a Baggins. I don't know what I was thinking. I should never have run out my door." Bilbo sounded defeated.

"You're homesick," Elwen said, putting a hand on Bilbo's shoulder.

"That's right, you're just homesick. We understand that," Bofur added.

"No you don't! You don't understand!" Bilbo said harshly. "None of you do-you're Dwarves. You're used to-to this life, to living on the road, never settling in one place, not belonging anywhere. And Elwen…"

Elwen dropped her hand and Bilbo bit his lip. Bofur's face fell.

"I'm sorry, I didn't…" Bilbo looked down at the floor of the cave and shook his head, ashamed.

"No," Bofur said softly. "You're right. We don't belong anywhere. I wish you all the luck in the world. I really do." The Dwarf smiled and placed a hand on Bilbo's shoulder.

Elwen wasn't having it. She grabbed Bilbo by the arm and yanked him back.

"You aren't going anywhere, you little…" her snarl trailed off, her eyes falling to Bilbo's waist.

"What's that?" Bofur asked.

Bilbo looked down. A bright, blue light was emanating from the sword Gandalf had given him when they left the troll hoard. The Hobbit reached down and slowly pulled the sword partway out of its sheath, seeing it was glowing a bright. Bilbo looked up slowly, him and Elwen sharing a desperate look.

"Get up!" Elwen shrieked.

Thorin stood. He heard a strange, mechanical sound, almost like gears turning. Cracks were forming in the sand on the floor of the cave.

"Wake up. Wake up!" he cried.

The company began to rouse but not fast enough.

Thorin looked over to Elwen. He saw her wobble as the floor began to shift. She looked up, her silver eyes wide and frightened.

"Thorin," she breathed.

And then the earth fell away.

 **Authors Note: Hello all! I'm back with another chapter. I've decided to post a chapter every week. If I catch up to myself, you'll be waiting a while between chapters, but I PROMISE you that I am working on this fic, will not discontinue it, and it WILL be completed. Eventually. I'm going to be pretty busy probably up until the New Year, so all of you lovely people will just have to be patient with me. I appreciate you all!**

 **Once again, thank you to all who have read, followed, and favorited this story. I am beyond humbled and really happy you enjoy the story so much. Please feel free to drop a review, I LOVE hearing from readers! Tell me what you think of the chapter, of the relationships I'm forming between our heroine and the rest of the group, and where you think the story is headed! Very curious to hear your theories!**

 **Pallysdeeks: Oh, just wait. The roller coaster ride only gets worse, my friend. My goal is to make everyone hate my guts by the end of the story haha!**

 **Sophia Kaiba: Thank you so much for reading! I'm so glad you're enjoying Elwen. She's one of my favorite OC's that I've created and I feel quite personally attached to her. As far as whether or not Legolas knows he has a half sister…I guess you'll just have to keep reading to find out ;) Cheers!**

 **Carre: Thank you so much for the review! Stay tuned to see what goes down!**

 **BiscuitsandGravy: I LOVE your username, first of all. How cute! Secondly, thank you! I have decided to post every week. I have I think up to almost chapter 19 written, so I've got some breathing room to catch up to myself. I've been very busy lately, and will be busy probably until the New Year. So if I catch up to myself before then, I doubt I'll be able to update much until after Christmas. As far as Legolas is concerned, you'll just have to stick around to find out! I don't want to spoil the fun!**

 **Alright Lords and Lassies, happy reading and once again, thank you so much for reading my little story.**

 **Cheers, L**


	13. Chapter 13 Goblin Town

**Chapter 13 Goblin Town**

Elwen looked desperately across the cave. The ground beneath her began to shift, sand sifting and falling through cracks forming in the floor. She was sure she heard some kind of machine kick on and gears turning somewhere beneath the surface. Thorin cried for everyone to wake up, but it was too late.

Their eyes met for only a moment, but the moment held so much. She wanted to scream how sorry she was, how much she wish they'd spoken more and less angrily. But there wasn't time.

"Thorin," was all she managed to say before the floors fell open like a giant trap door and they all began plummeting down deep into the mountain.

Elwen wasn't sure how far they fell, but the impact was jarring and painful. They were shot out of some sort of chute into a tunnel sloping down, down, down into the unknown. The tunnel was crudely dug with jagged rocks littering the floor, cutting into her flesh and bloodying her. She was screaming, of course, because who wouldn't scream if they were falling down some crazy tunnel in the middle of a mountain? It was like being on a roller coaster without the safety features.

The company slammed onto a wooden deck in a great heap and _hmphs_. Elwen landed on top of the pile, her body bouncing off Bombur as if he were a trampoline.

Elwen looked around quickly, her eyes darting over her friends and then to her surroundings. It seemed that everyone was in one piece, though they were all groaning from various aches and pains. It was a miracle none of them had been impaled on their own weapon.

They had landed in some sort of half built wooden cage. They were also lucky no one landed on the pointed boards that were jutting upward like claws. No one had time to assess if there were any damages to their persons, because a few seconds after they landed, a noise that sounded like an avalanche assaulted their ears.

"Look out!" shouted Dori. Elwen looked and saw a hoard of stooped, deformed creatures stampeding their way down the stone ledge that lead to their cage.

They were horrifying little monsters. They had large, pointed bat-like ears, sallow paper colored skin with all manner of boils and bumps and disfigurements. They differed from the Orcs she had seen, but their terribleness was quite evenly matched.

The monsters rushed them, opening the tiny slits on their faces and screaming through broken and cracked, jagged teeth. There was a great struggle, everyone yelling at the creatures to unhand them and get back. Dwalin smashed many in the face with his great fists, sending them flying off the ledge and into the abyss below. Elwen struggled when a claw like hand gripped the front of her tunic, but it did no good. The creatures swarmed them like bees, and no matter how hard they fought, it wasn't long until their enemies sheer numbers overwhelmed them.

The company found themselves being pushed and dragged down a pathway. Elwen looked around and saw all of her friends save one. Where had Bilbo gone? Her throat closed. Had he been the unlucky one of the party to miss the cage and fall into the darkness below?

Her eyes found Thorin, Fili, and Kili. Their faces were screwed up with anger and panic as they fought and struggled. She took a leaf from Dwalin's book and started punching the creepy suckers in the face, pushing them out of the way and elbowing her way to Thorin's side. She backhanded one so hard that she was pretty sure her tough leather bracers cracked its jaw, though how could you tell, they were so ugly?

"What are these things!?" Elwen shouted over the snarling and growling.

"Goblins!" Thorin replied. He grabbed her hand tightly as one of the said goblins shoved her hard in the back. "Don't leave my side!"

They were being lead through a labyrinth of tunnels and over many wooden bridges when Elwen heard a noise that almost sounded like music. Somewhere above them, a band of Goblins had begun banging on makeshift drums and clanging horrid sounding symbols.

They were lead onto a wooden platform and stopped in front of a great, boiled, and awfully fat Goblin, who was using several other Goblin's as a makeshift footstool. He was wearing some sort of crown made from wood and bone.

"I feel a song coming on," said the Great Goblin, making a sound deep in his throat that sounded like choking and almost made Elwen gag. The song he began to sing didn't give her much hope for their situation.

 _Snip snap, the black crack/grip, grab, pinch, and nab/Batter and beat_

The behemoth stood up, crushing some of his underlings before stomping with his disgustingly large foot. His girth was impressive, and Elwen wondered how long it had been since the creature had actually seen his own feet. He gestured wildly as he continued to belt out foul lyrics.

 _Milk em', stammer and squeak!/Pound pound, far underground/Down, down, down in Goblin Town/ With a swish and a smack/And a whip and a crack/everybody talks when they're on the rack/pound pound, far underground/Down, down, down in Goblin town/Hammer and torch, get out your knockers and gongs/You won't last long on the end of my prongs_

The Great Goblin King took his pointed staff and actually stabbed another Goblin through the chest with it and slung him off the walkway.

 _Clish, clash, crush and smash/Bang, break, shiver and shake/You can yell and yelp/But there ain't no help/Pound poud, far underground/Down, down, down in Goblin town_

At the end, the fat Goblin twirled around on his feet and spun his staff so low that she and the others were obliged to duck. He seemed awfully pleased with his horrid little song.

Goblin Town. _Of course I'm in Goblin Town. Why not?_ Everything else up to that point had been insane, might as well keep with the theme. Elwen wouldn't have so much as batted an eye if David Bowie walked up, shape-shifted into an owl, and took flight right in front of her. There was no such thing as fantasy, not anymore. Not when she was looking at an actual Goblin King. This one, unfortunately, was nothing like David Bowie.

"Catchy isn't it?" asked the Goblin King. "It's one of my own compositions."

"You don't say," Elwen mumbled and Thorin squeezed her hand.

"That's not a song!" cried Balin. "It's an abomination!"

The Goblin's squealed like pigs in indignation but the Dwarves cheered on their mate.

"Abominations, mutations, deviations," bellowed the Goblin King. "That's all you're gonna find down here."

After this declaration, the company found themselves swiftly disarmed. They gave the Goblin's a tough time of it, of course, but in the end, they were outnumbered. Thorin, Dwalin, Fili, and Kili formed a bit of a circle around her, doing their best to shield her from view. All the while, Elwen wondered where Bilbo was, if he was safe and simply biding his time.

"Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom?" the huge Goblin leered at them. "Spies? Thieves? Assassins?"

"Dwarves, your Malevolence," said one of the little Goblin's in a sniveling, snarling voice.

"Dwarves?" the Goblin King asked, perplexed.

"We found them on the front porch."

The little Goblin reached, quick as a snake, between Thorin and Fili and jerked Elwen by the arm. The entire company surged forward, but were pushed back. Thorin shouted her name but Dwalin held him back. No need to reveal exactly who they had in their midst as of yet. Bofur struggled until he was near enough to touch her arm for support.

"They have an Elf with them!"

Elwen stamped on its foot, earning her a snarl and sharp shove.

"Quite small for an Elf," said the King.

"You're a bit large for a Goblin, aren't you?" The words came out of her mouth before she could stop herself.

The King moved close to her.

"Why is an Elf traveling with a troop of Dwarves?" he asked, giving her the Goblin equivalent of the stink eye. She gave him the stink eye right back and refused to answer. It didn't take long for him to become impatient. He stood straight and roared at his minions, "Well don't just stand there; search them! Every crack, every crevice." He gave Elwen a very unpleasant look when he finished his orders.

The mean little Goblin started trying to frisk her, but she promptly punched him in the face as hard as she could. He decided she didn't have anything on her person and moved on to Oin, taking the poor old Dwarf's trumpet and crushing it under foot.

A bag was dumped out onto the ground and scores of what looked like candlesticks, silverware, and several wine goblets came pouring out. Many of the Dwarves turned their eyes to Nori, who gave a shrug.

"Just a couple of keepsakes," he said to Dori, who was giving him an astonished, open mouthed look.

"What are you doing in these parts?" demanded the Goblin King.

Elwen had been pulled back into the fold, away from the great brute, and for once she was glad for her overprotective companions.

Thorin began to walk forward, but Oin places a halting hand upon his shoulder. "Don't worry lads," he said, "I'll handle this."

"No tricks!" said the King, pointing at Oin harshly as he sat back down on his throne, his boiled behind flowing over its sides. "I want the truth! Warts and all!"

"You're going to have to speak up," Oin said. "Your boys flattened my trumpet!"

The King was on his feet in the matter of seconds and advanced on Oin. "I'll flatten more than your trumpet!" He threw a great hand out, knocking Nori's "keepsakes" off the platform with a loud _clang_.

"If it's more information you're wanting," Bofur moved forward, putting the old Dwarf behind him, "then I'm the one you should speak to!" The King signaled for him to go on with a grunt. Bofur steeled himself, and Elwen could see plainly that he had no idea what he was doing. "We were on the road…well, it's not so much a road as a path…actually, it's not even that, come to think of it. It's more like a track." Elwen groaned. "Anyway, the point is, we were on this road, like a path, like a track, and then we weren't! Which is a problem, because we were supposed to be in Dunland last Tuesday!"

"Visiting distance relations!" said Dori.

"SHUT UP!" roared the Goblin King. He'd listened far longer than Elwen had expected him to. Many Goblin's and Dwarves alike jumped backward. Bofur closed his mouth, and had the sense to look sheepish.

"If they will not talk," the King motioned toward the company, "we'll make then squawk! Bring out the Mangler! Bring out the Bone Breaker." He eyed Elwen evilly. "Start with the woman."

Elwen's blood went cold. She lashed out at any Goblin that reached out to take hold of her.

"Wait!" Thorin cried, moving in front of Elwen swiftly.

Elwen thought the Goblin King looked far too satisfied.

"Well, well, well, look who it is," said the Goblin King in a japing tone. "Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror. King Under the Mountain." He gave Thorin a mocking bow. "Oh, but I'm forgetting; you don't have a mountain. And you're not a king. Which makes you nobody, really."

Elwen started forward, but Thorin threw an arm in front of her before she could take anymore foolish steps. She knew now was definitely not the time to lose her temper, but she couldn't abide it. She could not abide this creatures mocking voice. How dare he sit there with that horrid crown on his head, thinking himself Thorin's better!

"I know someone who would pay a pretty price for your head," said the Goblin, smiling in a way that was grotesque. "Just the head, nothing attached."

Elwen jerked to attention. "Speak plainly!"

Could he mean...no, it couldn't be…

"You know of whom I speak," the Great Goblin said lowly. "An old enemy of yours. A pale Orc astride a white Warg."

Elwen heart sank to the pit of her stomach. It was what her visions had told her but she'd scarcely believed till this moment. The Pale Orc was very much alive and hunting for Thorin Oakenshield.

"Azog the Defiler was destroyed," Thorin sounded as if he were trying to desperately trying to convince himself. "He was slain in battle long ago."

"So you think his defiling days are done, do you?" asked the King.

Elwen's skin began to crawl like it was covered with cockroaches. The Great Goblin turned to one of his underlings sitting in a basket, holding a slate and seeming to take notes. "Send word to the Pale Orc. Tell him I have found his prize."

Elwen felt the panic rise. They had to get away before Azog arrived. She looked around wildly and knew that this was not the place she had seen in her dreams. The Sons of Durin met their end in the open air, on ice and snow. But that did not means she was willing to tempt fate.

"Bones will be shattered, necks will be wrung!" the King said in a sing-song voice, "you'll be beaten and battered, from racks you'll be hung. You will lie down here and never be found, down in the deep of Goblin town!"

The little Goblin who had done most of the talking began to examine the company's discarded weapons. When he picked up Orcrist, he unsheathed the blade just a sliver. He reeled back as if the sword had given him a shock and slung it to the ground with a resounding clang. The noise drew the attention of the Great Goblin, who likewise moved away from the sword, stepping on several of his subjects.

"I know that sword!" said the King, horrified and pointing as if it were a venomous snake in their midst. He was trembling on his throne like a scared child suddenly faced with a giant monster it had only ever dreamed about. "It is the Goblin-Cleaver, the Biter, the blade that sliced a thousand necks!"

 _Damn_ , thought Elwen. _Go Orcrist!_

Upon the rousing of their master, many of the Goblin's began lashing out at the company in violent outbursts. Elwen screamed when one of the Goblin's heavy iron chains bit into the soft flesh of her back. She fell to a knee and tried to rise, but was hit several more times. She could hear Kili and Thorin screaming her name and when she looked up, both Dwarves were doing their best to make it to her side, but there were too many Goblins. Too many…

"Slash them! Beat them! Kill them! Kill them all! Cut off his head!"

Elwen watched, horrified, as six or seven Goblins swarmed Thorin. He managed to toss one off him and into the railing, but more took its place as it tumbled down into the darkness. She and the others tried to push their way toward their leader, but it was no use.

" _Thorin_!" Elwen screamed his name when one of the Goblin's held a knife several inches from his neck, ready to sever head from body.

Just before the creature brought down the knife, the world exploded into brilliant light, and Elwen was blind.

* * *

The pure, white orb extended outward, filling the cavern with a blinding light that hit them with the force of a mighty waive. The Goblins currently holding down Thorin were blown off him and sent flying down into the darkness below. It was as if a giant expelled a breath and let loose a wind fierce enough to blow away the torture devices and snuffing out most of the surrounding lights.

Thorin leaned up on his elbows and saw a tall, shadowy figure in what appeared to be a pointed hat begin to move through the destruction. Dwarves and Goblin's alike began to rouse from their stupor. When Gandalf came fully into view, Thorin saw that he was wielding both his sword and staff.

"Take up arms," the Wizard said, his voice echoing throughout the chamber. "Fight! Fight!"

Goblins began rushing Gandalf, but he slew them expertly, slicing through his foes with his sword while knocking others away with his staff.

"He wields the Foe-Hammer, the Beater, bright as daylight!" shouted the Goblin King, cowering backwards.

The dwarves reached their pile of confiscated weapons. They began tossing them around to their various owners, arming themselves and preparing for battle. Thorin heard his name called and turned in time to see Orcrist flying his way. He caught it one handed, unsheathing it with a swift motion. He looked up and saw Elwen with her own swords in hand. He saw her fall upon a Goblin right next to Kili, both dispatching their opponent with a few slashes of their blades. She then sank a knife deep into the neck of the next advancing Goblin.

Her entire countenance had changed. She was no longer the plucky girl with a sharp wit and ready comeback. Her face had hardened, her stance was ready, and her blades were merciless. Elwen Greenleaf looked every bit an ancient Elwen warrior, and Thorin wasn't sure he'd ever seen anyone or anything as beautiful as she in his many years.

The Great Goblin staggered forward. Thorin saw he was about to bring his great staff down upon Elwen and he flew forward enraged, Orcrist in hand, and blocked the blow. The force in which Thorin pushed him back sent the boiled beast flailing, and soon tumbling over the side of the platform.

All around him, combat was raging. Dwarves were dispatching Goblin' left and right with sword and axe. Thorin saw Gandalf remove the head of one squat, fat Goblin almost comically. But the company was still greatly outnumbered, and Thorin knew they could not fight thus for long without losing ground.

"Follow me," Gandalf called, "Quick! Run!"

They raced down the platform in a line, finding themselves followed by scores of Goblins. Thorin looked over his shoulder and saw Elwen running behind him, swords at the ready.

"Post!" Thorin heard Dwalin shout after dispatching several Goblins with his mighty battle axes. He cut one of the guardrails and several members of the company lifted it. "Charge!" They ran forward, knocking dozens of Goblins over the edge of the platform.

Thorin understood why the Goblin's feared Orcrist so vehemently. The Elven steal sliced through skin and bone like a knife through bread. He was able to cut through three Goblin's with a single twirling swing, but a dozen always came to replace the fallen. They were like cockroaches; there seemed to be no end to them. Every member of the company had their hands full with their own opponents. Thorin saw Elwen slide between four Goblin severing limbs and heads before they even knew she was there.

A noise drew his attention. He looked up and saw several Goblins swinging toward them from the platforms above.

"Cut the ropes!" he shouted, swinging Orcrist down on where the ropes were tied onto the platform. It tilted forward, cause the Goblins to catch on the rails and swing around and around.

"Good one!" Elwen shouted, smiling, then immediately turned back to the task at hand.

Kili slid next to her, and with a great shout he cut down one of the Goblin's she was attacking. He blocked several arrows with his sword before he and Elwen spied a rickety wooden ladder leaning against the cave wall. Kili, Elwen, and several other Dwarves ran, pushing the ladder forward ahead of them, shoving Goblin's off the edge. The ladder served as a bridge, and once the group reached the other half, Dwalin shattered it so that they could not be followed easily.

They continued following the Wizard, fighting their way through the Goblin hoard, jumping from place to place. Gandalf struck a rock with his staff, causing the boulder to roll in front of them several paces, squishing many of their enemies. Thorin was unsure how many Goblin's they killed as they sped through the mountain, trying to find their way to freedom.

Suddenly, the platform in front of them exploded into splinters of wood. The Great Goblin pulled himself up through the rubble, blocking the company's path as other Goblins approached on all sides.

"You thought you could escape me?" said the Goblin King, taking a swipe at him with his mace. "What are you going to do now, Wizard?"

Gandalf screwed up his face and leapt forward, striking the Goblin in the eye with his staff. The Goblin King reeled backward, clutching his face in pain. "Ow, ow, ow!"

Gandalf stepped forward again, this time slashing the giant Goblin in the belly. He fell to his knees, clutching his wound.

"That'll do it," he reluctantly conceded.

Gandalf gave him no chance to speak further. He struck out with the Foe-Hammer, hitting his target at the Great Goblin King's neck. He fell unceremoniously over, dead.

Elwen put her hands on her hips, swords gripped in her closed fists. "That was anticlimactic," she said, disappointed.

Then the bridge began to shake. Goblins clambered over their deceased regent's body, crawling toward the Dwarves with murder in their eyes. Thorin heard Elwen shout as the bridge began to give way, sinking down into the cavern below.

"This is the worst ride ever!" Elwen screamed as the platform gained speed.

Thorin put his arms around her and she clung to a pole as they bounced and slid down the mountain, sheltering her with his body. The bridge managed to get itself wedged between the sides of the mountain at the base of the cavern, breaking apart and burying many of the company beneath the rubble. They were all bruised, groaning, but alive.

"Are you alright?" Thorin asked Elwen, pulling splinters from her hair.

"Well," she said with a shrug, "that could have been worse."

Suddenly, the heavy corpse of the great Goblin landed on the wreckage, squishing the buried members of the group.

"You've got to be joking," Dwalin growled.

They busied themselves with getting out from beneath the rubble. It was a moment later Thorin heard his youngest nephew call out to Gandalf, terror evident in his shout. They all looked up in horror as what looked like a thousand Goblin's crawled and scuttled down the mountain side toward them.

"There's one thing that will save us," Gandalf said, "Daylight! Come on!" He reached into the rubble and pulled Oin free. "Here, on your feet!"

Thorin pulled Elwen upward, gripped her hand, and together they raced after Gandalf toward the light of day.

* * *

They didn't stop running until the cave entrance was well behind them. They hopped over boulders, fallen trees, and only slowed when Gandalf did.

Thorin never let go of Elwen, even when they paused to catch their breath, feeling the need to keep her close. She had fought well in the caves below, but he didn't know how injured she was from the chains and the fall off the bridge. Elwen was sturdy, but she was no Dwarf.

"Five, six, seven, eight," Gandalf counted them as they all gathered. "Bifur, Bofur…that's ten…Fili, Kili, that's twelve, and Bombur, that makes thirteen. Where's Bilbo?"

Everyone began to look around, growing more fearful by the second. Elwen's face grew grave, but she did not seem surprised by Bilbo's absence.

"Where is our Hobbit?" Gandalf demanded emphatically.

"Curse the Halfling!" said Dwalin. "Now he's lost?"

"I thought he was with Dori!" exclaimed Gloin.

"Don't blame me!"

"Well," said Gandalf, "where did you last see him?"

"I think I saw him slip away," said Nori. "When they first collared us."

Thorin's eyes narrowed. He should have known better than to expect loyalty from that simpering Hobbit.

"What happened exactly?" asked Gandalf. "Tell me!"

"I'll tell you what happened," Thorin growled. "Master Baggins saw his chance and he took it! He's thought of nothing but his soft bed and his warm hearth since first he stepped out his door!"

"That isn't fair!" Elwen shouted, wrenching her hand from his. "Of course he's missed home; this was the first time he's ever left! And he did it for you! How do you know he isn't lying dead somewhere in that mountain?"

"You heard Nori! He who you defend left you behind, Elwen." Thorin argued, his eyes flashing. "We will not be seeing our Hobbit again. He is long gone."

Elwen looked around, beseeching the others to take her side and speak on Bilbo's behalf. Everyone exchanged glances and no one spoke. Her eyes filled, and she looked down at the ground angrily.

"No," came a voice from behind, "he isn't."

Thorin turned, and standing a few paces behind him was their long lost burglar. Murmurs and relieved laughter burbled through the group.

"Bilbo!" Elwen shouted, racing to the Hobbit and embracing him with such enthusiasm that she almost knocked him over. He patted her shoulder and smiled half-heartedly.

"Bilbo Baggins!" exclaimed Gandalf, relieved. "I've never been so glad to see anyone in my life."

Bilbo, with Elwen by his side, moved a few paces into the group, patting Balin affectionately on the shoulder.

"Bilbo, we'd given you up!" Kili said, a smile spreading across his face.

"How on earth did you get past the Goblins?" asked Fili, puzzled.

"How indeed," said Dwalin, noting how very unlikely it was.

Bilbo looked around awkwardly, clearly unsure how to answer the question.

"Well, what does it matter?" asked Gandalf. "He's back!"

Thorin moved forward. "It matters!" he said, ignoring Elwen's glare. "I want to know; why _did_ you come back?"

He couldn't say why it was important, but it was. Bilbo had the chance to go home, to go back to his cozy little life and leave behind all the turmoil they had met on the road thus far. He could have been safe, and happy, and yet he'd stayed. _Despite all that I have done to drive him away_.

"Look," Bilbo said, facing Thorin. "I know you doubt me, I know you always have. And you're right, I often think of Bag End," Bilbo shrugged, unashamed of this fact. "I miss my books. And my armchair. And my garden. See, that's where I belong. That's home. And that's why I came back, cause you don't have one. A home. It was taken from you. But I will help you take it back if I can."

Thorin was absolutely thunderstruck. He could do nothing but incline his head in thanks. No words would suffice, he well knew, and so he remained silent. The other Dwarves were equally as moved, and equally as unable to speak. Gandalf smiled slightly, no doubtfully thinking on how much the Hobbit had transformed on the journey thus far.

Bilbo turned to Elwen. "And please believe that I will never leave you behind, no matter what," he said with feeling. "You have believed in me even when I didn't believe in myself. I don't know why you have so much faith in me, but I'm grateful for it, and I will do whatever I can to help you find your family. I won't disappoint you, I promise. I will be worthy of your faith in me."

"You've never let me down, Bilbo," Elwen said warmly, blinking away tears and kissing the Hobbit right on the cheek. He blushed a furious red and stammered.

Thorin was about to tell Bilbo how he truly appreciated the sacrifices he was willing to make when heard it; a piercing howl slicing through the still mountain twilight.

Thorin moved immediately to Elwen's side, pulling her hand into his, preparing to leap into action. No matter how angry she rightfully was, he would follow the Hobbit's example and not leave her side.

"Out of the frying pan…" he said

"And into the fire," returned Gandalf. "Run. RUN!"

 **Authors Note: Hello all! This chapter has quite a bit of action, so there wasn't much of a chance for development as far as relationships go. Can you believe we're almost to the end of part 1?! How crazy! Thank you all for sticking with me thus far, I truly appreciate it! Writing this story has been so much fun! I'm trying to decide if I want to start posting another fanfiction I have in the works (it's a fic for the anime Bleach) or if I should wait to start posting it after this one is complete. Thoughts?**

 **A huge thank you to those of you who have reviewed! I love hearing from you all and hearing your opinions and theories as to where the story is going. I highly encourage reviews!**

 **BiscuitsAndGravy: You're welcome, darling, it's an adorable name! And thank you so much, I'm glad you enjoyed chapter 12. It was one of my favorites to write, and actually some of the scenes from this chapter were some of the first scenes I wrote for this story period. I'd had the scene with Thorin and Elwen on the bridge in my mind from the very beginning. It was all about getting there. I hope chapter 13 lives up to expectations!**

 **Pallysdeeks: You're such a dear. I can't tell you how much I look forward to your reviews! Goooood because torn is what I want you to be! If you weren't, I'd be afraid I wasn't doing my job haha! But also, I'm definitely thinking by the end of the story, some people are gonna be either Team Thorin or Team Kili!**

 **Carre: Yep, we wound up in Goblin Town, of course. The song is pretty good! Lol And yes, Elwen's language is a dead giveaway that she's from another world. Thorin and the gang don't really understand that concept, they think she's just from a place very far away, perhaps somewhere from across the sea. I want to keep her realistic to our world, but she'll also develop the longer she's there. And thank you so much! Hope you enjoy chapter 13!**

 **SunnySides: Woot, we have 1 person on Team Thorin! Looking forward to seeing what you think as the story progresses. And no, I've never heard of OC-Sickness. What an interesting concept! I've already written the ending for this story, so I won't be exploring that, but if you can recommend any Fic's that deal with that that you think I'd like, link me! I will be posting every weekend until I get caught up with myself. When that happens, you all might be waiting quite a while for updates. My life is pretty crazy up till the New Year. I'm not talking years of waiting lol but maybe a month or so.**

 **Thank you again for reading, Lords and Lassies, and I hope you all have a fantastic day/night. Please continue to leave me love and let me know what you think!**

 **Cheers- L**


	14. Chapter 14 The Pale Orc

Chapter 14 **The Pale Orc**

Nighttime fell as the company ran down the mountainside in a dead sprint. Elwen could hear some of her companions stumbling on the rocks and tree-roots, but her footing was swift. Thorin had an iron grip on her hand, and together they raced through the darkness. She could hear the Wargs snarling their way through the forest, hot on their heels. They didn't have a chance of outrunning their mounted pursuers on foot.

A single Warg leaped out of the darkness and charged Bilbo, growling deep in its throat and baring its long, terrifying fangs. Bilbo held his sword out in front of him shakily, and the Warg leapt forward. Clearly Wargs weren't of the highest intelligence, because it ran straight into Bilbo's blade and impaled itself, falling over dead. Bilbo looked as surprised as Elwen felt.

They reached a large outcropping of land filled with pine trees. It didn't take long to realize they had run themselves into a corner; a sheer drop down the mountain was their only means of escape, and as none of them could fly…

"Up into the trees, all of you!" Gandalf cried. "Come on, Climb! Bilbo, climb!"

Bilbo was still struggling to free his sword, which was lodged snugly in the dead Warg's skull. Bifur threw an ax, killing a Warg that had almost been upon him. Bofur jumped off a rock, grabbed a tree branch, and used Dwalin's head as a step stool to get himself into a tree.

"They're coming," Thorin shouted.

Gandalf climbed to the top of the furthest tree. Dwalin boosted Balin into the tree nearest him, and Thorin quickly followed. Elwen scrambled up a tree with Fili and Kili. Bilbo finally managed to yank his sword free and scrambled up a tree just before the pack reached him.

Elwen turned to make sure the entire company was off the ground and she saw Gandalf do a puzzling thing. He reached out with his staff and when he pulled back, there appeared to be an insect sitting on it. Elwen was startled to realize that her vision was suddenly clear enough to make out the slight fluttering of a moth's wings. She hadn't noticed it before, the sharping of any senses. She wondered if it was because of the magic she had been exposed to in Rivendell.

She saw Gandalf bring the moth close to his face and it almost looked as if he were whispering to it. He formed an O with his lips and blew, and Elwen watched as the tiny creature flew away into the night.

Suddenly, the incessant growing ceased. Elwen whirled and her attention was now focused on the enemy. A ferocious, monstrously giant white Warg stalked forward and came to stand on a large rock. And, just as the Goblin King had said, astride the great beast was a brutally disfigured pale Gundabad Orc.

"Azog?" Thorin gasped, the shock evident on his face.

He hadn't believed what the Great Goblin had told them. Elwen hadn't either, at least she hadn't wanted to. She could no longer turn a blind eye to the visions she'd been having since arriving in Middle-earth. They were real, this was happening. And there was nothing she could do about it.

The white Warg growled, a sound that sent chills up Elwen's spine. Azog stroked its fur slowly.

" _Nuzdigid? Nuzdi gast?" Do you smell it? The scent of fear?_

Elwen was sure she and Gandalf were the only two who could understand what the foul beast was grunting, but everyone sensed the pure malice in Azog's tone.

" _Ganzilig-I unarug odob nauzdanish, Thorin, undag Thrain-ob." I remember your father reeked of it, Thorin son of Thrain._

Elwen felt fury course through her veins like fire. _I'll rip that beasts tongue out from between its teeth,_ she thought with a snarl.

From her perch, Elwen could see the devastating realization wash over Thorin like a wave as he took in the sight of his most hated and bitter enemy.

"It cannot be," he said brokenly.

But it was. Azog the Defiler had returned, and he was coming for the King Under the Mountain.

" _Kod, Toragid biriz!" That one is mine. "Worori-da!" Kill the others!_

As soon as Azog issued the orders, the Wargs surged forward and fell upon the trees. They jumped as high as they could into the trees, their jaws snapping hungrily, growls and barks deafening. They jumped on the trees and broke apart branches with their jaws, causing the trees to shake violently.

" _Sho gad adol!" Drink their blood_! Azog shouted.

Elwen glared down at a Warg currently trying to run up the tree trunk of her sanctuary. When it got close enough, snapping at her feet, Elwen kicked it in the muzzle, sending it roughly down to the ground with a whimper.

It hurt Elwen's pride, having been treed by such creatures. She would never be able to express how much she was growing to despise Orcs and Goblins and the like. They truly were the worst kind of scum from the blackest, most vile places in existence. But she knew she couldn't face the Orc pack alone and emerge victorious, and she wasn't sure how the rest of the company would fare in a fight if it came down to it. They'd passed a long, sleepless night battling Goblins underground with no respite. Could they take on these fiends? The Dwarves were fierce fighters, and they did have a Wizard, but she wasn't sure even that would be enough.

Elwen felt herself being suddenly pitched forward. The trees were loosening at the roots as the Wargs slammed against the trunks with all their weight. As more Wargs jumped and grabbed onto branches, the trees began to fall over like dominoes. The company began jumping from tree to tree, screaming and shouting and swearing as they hopped along as the beasts snapped and snarled below them. They all managed to fit into the last tree on the very edge of the cliff. Elwen looked over and went cross-eyed as the saw how far the drop would be. She turned back around and hugged the tree like her life depended on it.

Azog laughed cruelly, and she found that she wasn't so overcome with fear that she couldn't scream obscenities at the top of her lungs foul enough to make a sailor blush.

Elwen spied Gandalf reaching for a rather large pinecone growing in the tree. Her eyes widened when she saw him use his staff to set the thing on fire.

"I didn't know you could set things on fire!" she exclaimed. "That could have come in handy, you know!"

The Wizard simply smiled, then lobbed the pinecone grenade style down into the pack. The Wargs whined and retreated backward, afraid of the fire.

"Fili," Gandalf cried and tossed a flaming pinecone down to him.

Fili caught it, then launched it to the ground as Gandalf had done. Soon, several of the Dwarves were assaulting the Wargs and Orcs with flaming pinecones and the ground quickly caught on fire. Elwen nailed a Warg in its side and grinned when its fur caught on fire. Azog roared in anger and the company cheered.

The cheers, however, quickly turned to alarmed shouts as the tree became uprooted under their weight and began tipping toward the edge of the cliff. Elwen closed her eyes and wrapped her entire body around a limb and held on for dear life. She was jolted when the tree hit the ground, the top of it tipping precariously out into the open air.

"Ahhhhh! Oh! Oh no!"

Elwen looked over to see Ori lose his grip on the tree and fall, grabbing hold of Dori's leg.

"Mister Gandalf!" shouted Dori just before losing his own grip and beginning to plummet. Gandalf quickly swung down his staff and Dori grabbed the end of it.

"Hold on Ori!"

Elwen managed to maneuver around so that she wasn't staring down at the ground below. She turned her eyes back to Azog, who was growling at them from his mount. She knew there was no escaping the predicament they found themselves in. Either the Orcs would find a way to shove the tree the rest of the way off the mountain face, or the Wargs would swarm the tree and bodily drag them out. Her heart was hammering inside her chest as fear and anger coursed through her veins. _If I manage to make it out of this tree, I'm going to kill that craggy faced piece of pale shit_ , she thought nastily.

Kili was doing his best to pull himself up into the tree. Everyone was simply doing their best to hang on.

She looked at Thorin, who was staring at Azog with pure and unadulterated hate burning in those crystal blue eyes. She gasped as she saw the determination pass over his face.

"No," she gasped, "Stop."

Thorin either didn't hear her, or didn't care. He stood, finding purchase on the trunk, Orcrist in hand. The shield made from the oak branch he had once used against Azog all those years ago was strapped to his left arm.

"Thorin, stop!" Elwen screamed, scrambling to find her balance.

Thorin began to run, his face a twisted snarl. He cast a long shadow amidst the flickering flames of their previous assault. Azog was smiling as Thorin ran full tilt.

Elwen saw the White Warg leap from its perch. Thorin tried to swing his sword, but the Warg hit him square in the chest with its forepaw, knocking him to the ground.

"Thorin!"

The King Under the Mountain struggled to his feet, but Azog swung his large, terrifying mace and grazed Thorin Oakenshield's face, which sent him sprawling to the ground.

"No!" Balin shouted, his eyes filling with tears.

Elwen looked frantically around and saw that none of the others were in any position to go to his aid. Azog roared, and Elwen managed to get into a standing position in the tree just in time to see the White Warg clamp its jaws around Thorin's middle and shake violently. She screamed as Thorin cried out in pain, her voice raw and breaking.

"Thorin, no!" Dwalin cried out, trying to desperately to climb out of the tree, but the limbs he grabbed kept breaking.

Thorin managed to hit the Warg on the nose with the pommel of his sword. Growling with pain, the Warg threw Thorin several feet away onto a flat rock nearby. His sword slipped from his hand, and his head lulled back.

" _Biriz torag khobdudol,"_ Azog said lazily to one of his underlings. _Bring me the Dwarf's head._

It took only a split second for Elwen to decide what to do. She flew down the tree trunk with a speed and ease of step she'd not yet known she possessed. She loosed the swords strapped to her back in a swift, fluid motion, and when she hit the ground, she realized that she wasn't alone. Bilbo Baggins, of all people, was standing next to her, sword out, ready to go down defending Thorin. They looked at each other and she smiled. She couldn't have picked a better partner. They nodded and surged forward, to what end they were both unsure, but no matter what, they would face it together.

* * *

Thorin gasped from the pain as he landed flat on his back. Azog's great beast had nearly bit him completely in half and slung him as if he were nothing but a piece of rubbish. _What a fool I am_ , he thought as he struggled to remain conscience. _What a prideful fool of a King I have started out to be._

Time moved slowly as the world came in and out of focus. He heard Azog demand his head, and he hated to wait for the final blow, for a sharpened blade to pierce his throat and end his journey.

In a way, death would be a relief. No longer would he have to fear being unable to lead his people. The madness in his blood would never be given the chance to gain control. He may never ascend the throne, but perhaps he was not destined for the Arkenstone. Maybe his only role had been to start them on the quest, to get them this far. Fili would be a fine King, and he'd always have his brother to help him with the restoration and running of the Kingdom.

And then he heard it. The voice that cried louder than even his closest kin. Her voice.

Elwen was sobbing out his name, her voice filled with more terror and anguish than he had ever heard. In that moment, he would have done anything to ease her spirit. It was then he realized he could not lay down and die. He couldn't leave her behind, not if it would cause her any kind of grief or pain.

There were so many reasons Elwen and Thorin shouldn't be, but he found he just couldn't care about the things that stood in their way. Heritage, rank, all of it be damned! She was the most incredible creature in Middle-earth, and he would feel the same even if she was the daughter of Sauron himself.

The Orc approached, leveling its blade at Thorin's neck. Thorin reached for Orcrist, but the blade was just out of reach. He gasped when he tried to move, his injuries from the Warg too severe. He strained, but to no avail. His eyes widened when he saw the Orc pull back, ready to swing the blade down and…

A blur of movement. Suddenly, two figures slammed into the side of the Orc, taking it to the ground in a heap of limbs and steel. Elwen and Bilbo were thrown off by the Orc, Elwen barely dodging a blow to the face. Bilbo managed to stab the Orc in the gut several times, taking it down.

Elwen and Bilbo placed themselves in front of Thorin, blades up and ready. Elwen was crouched, ready to spring, and even with his failing sight she seemed to glow amongst the floating embers and ash. He wanted to shout for them to flee, for them to not put themselves in harm's way for his sake.

The blackness grabbed him as if an iron fist had gripped his tunic and dragged him under against his will. Elwen's brilliance was the last thing he saw, all fierceness and beauty. His thoughts called out to no one, just a desperate pleading as he fell into nothing.

 _I do not want to lose anyone else I care for. Run! I cannot lose my nephews. My friends._

He thought of Elwen.

 _I cannot lose my One._

 **Authors Note: Hello all! I'm sorry this chapter is on the shorter side, but Part 1 is winding down, and I wanted the last chapter to begin and end a certain way, so I had to divide them. But we're almost to Part 2! I really feel like Part 2 is where the story makes a lot of headway.**

 **I really appreciate all of you who have stuck with me and reviewed, followed, and favorited the story. I especially appreciate those who have expressed how much they enjoy Elwen's character. In a way, Elwen is a bit like myself so I'm glad no one hates her!**

 **Pallysdeeks: It's Ori that they grab, I believe. In the book, Fili and Kili are the youngest, but in the movie it's Ori. And alright, one for #TeamKili hahahaha! Let's see if Thorin changes your mind as the story progresses! Thank you so much for always taking the time to drop me a few lines. I love reading your reviews!**

 **Bitch Ate My Cupcake: Your name is brilliant! So hilarious, I love it! Thank you, I'm so glad you're enjoying the story so far! I hope you continue to read and review, I really appreciate hearing from readers! I can't wait for Part 2, I've got some great stuff planned for our lovely cast of characters!**

 **Carre: Wow, thank you for this review! I love that you've thought about all this haha!**

 **1\. I have not. I've always wanted to give Discworld a try, but I read so many books and have such a long TBR pile, it's difficult to find the time to squeeze it in since it's a rather large series. Someday, though! And that's really cool that the bookstore made you think of the way that works in Discworld!**

 **2\. I'm going with no. I don't feel like Thorin would have mentioned Thranduil by name. I think he wouldn't want to linger on the story too much. She knows the Elves refused aid to them, but that's about it. I'm sure Elwen's reaction won't disappoint.**

 **3\. I don't want to touch on this too much yet because I don't want to give away any hints to the ending of this story.**

 **4\. I don't see myself using Elwen for any other story, especially not where she's an elf. I have a Harry Potter fic in mind that involves an OC and I could see myself using her name, but she'd be a different person. That's as far as I'd go. I don't want to do any AU crossovers or anything like that. I'm also not familiar enough with any of those other things you mentioned**

 **5\. Don't be sorry, I love the long reviews! Gives me lots to think over.**

 **SunnySides: Sorry, just not part of the story! And I don't have any AU splitoffs planned either. Thanks for the list, I'll check them out! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thanks for reading!**

 **Alright Lads and Lassies, I hope you enjoy the chapter 14! Chapter 15 will be the last chapter in Part 1 and then we'll jump right into Part 2! I may update a bit sooner, maybe Wednesday, since this chapter is so short.**

 **Cheers- L**


	15. Chapter 15 The Vow

**Chapter 15 The Vow**

Elwen stood side by side with Bilbo, swords up, glaring into the eyes of Azog, the Pale Orc.

She'd seen him in her dreams, had heard his voice and smelled his stench, but seeing him up close was a different experience entirely. He was alive. Flesh and blood and bone, and he wanted to kill those whom she held dear. The creature had made it his mission to wipe out the line of Durin, and she had made it her mission to stop him.

She took a step forward. This day wasn't the day of her vision, she knew that. _But_ _I can end it_ , she thought. _Right here, right now_. She'd only have to kill him. His beetle like eyes narrowed on her, pointed teeth gleaming out of the slash in his face that served as a mouth. Azog moved toward her on the back of his great white Warg along with a few of his followers, and she tensed, ready to spring.

Azog smiled at her, all teeth and cruelty. "Kill them," he snarled in that foul language of his.

That's when Kili, Fili, and Dwalin came barreling out of nowhere, somehow having disentangled themselves from the pine branches, and fought their way to her and Bilbo. She launched into action without hesitation, knowing a moment could cost her. She stood in front of Thorin's unconscious, defenseless form. No one would get past her.

Elwen shouted as something hit her in the side of the head, sending her flying. In the confusion of the onslaught, Elwen lost sight of Azog and his Warg, and paid dearly for it. The White Warg and hit her with its paw, leaving her dazed. She stood on unsteady feet, shaking her head, but there was a ringing in her ears she couldn't stop. Azog's maw split with a cruel smile as the two locked eyes. She stood as straight as she was able and held up her swords. The fire was raging all around them and through her peripheral, she saw the other Wargs surround the Dwarves on the ground, trapping them between fire and their enemies, cutting off any retreat. They had no choice but to stand and fight.

Azog's smile slipped from his monstrous face as he approached her, dark eyes narrowing slightly as he took in her face. He no doubt recognized her as Elf-kind.

Elwen heard a scream. Dori and Ori! Had they fallen? Cleary not, as their shouting wasn't getting further away, but closer…and higher off the ground…

Elwen jerked her head toward the sky just in time to see it filled with large, expansive wings. The sky was blocked from view by giant Eagles! She remembered Gandalf briefly mentioning them at the start of their journey. Something tickled the back of her mind, a memory she had lost. _The Eagles of Manwe,_ she thought, though the name meant absolutely nothing to her. It was as if this weren't her own memory, but an ancient one that she had inherited.

 _The Great Eagles have come._ Her mind snapped back to her last night in Rivendell. She had seen these Eagles in a vision. But what did it mean?

Elwen didn't have any time for further contemplation. Eagles were swooping down in every direction, a few picking up Wargs and Orcs and tossing them over the cliffs. Others knocked down trees, which crushed Wargs beneath their weighty trunks. Another fanned the flames with its wings, causing the inferno to burn Warg and Orc alike. Azog snarled when one of the Eagles hovered over Thorin and gently took the Dwarf King and his sword in its talons and flew away.

"Thorin!" Elwen cried, drawing the attention of Azog once again. Elwen turned back to the Orc and lifted her sword, leveling it with his face. "I am your death, filth," she snarled. She took off at a dead sprint, but a tree fell between them, dividing them with branches that had been set aflame. They stared at one another across the crackling fire, faces contorted with rage and absolute hate.

Eagles began lifting Dwarves from the trees. One hovered over Bilbo and scooped him off the ground. For a moment, she wondered if she would be left behind when an Eagle swopped down to her and she heard her name being cried. Gandalf leaned over and thrust out his staff.

Elwen took one last look at Azog. _The next time we meet, foul creature, you are mine._ She sheathed her swords and grabbed Gandalf's staff and allowed him to pull her onto the back of the Great Eagle.

Azog roared, his frustration ringing throughout the burning night. Elwen didn't look back. Her eyes were on the Eagle carrying Thorin in its talons.

* * *

The Eagles took them a great distance very quickly. Fili and Kili could be seen on an Eagle flying close to her and Gandalf. They were ashen, Fili leaning far over, trying to get a glimpse of his Uncle.

"Thorin!" he cried, but the King remained motionless.

Elwen felt as though someone had an iron clad fist clenched round her throat. He had to be okay. This was not the day she saw in her vision. Thorin couldn't be dead. She refused to believe that they had come all that way for naught.

The Eagles slowed as they approached a massive rock structure shaped like… a bear?

"The Carrock," Gandalf explained. Elwen nodded as if she knew what the hell that meant. He slid off the Eagle and dropped down to the rock, Elwen and company following suit.

"Thorin!" Gandalf called, racing to his side. "Thorin!"

The tall Wizard bent down to the Dwarf. There was no response. The fist around her throat now felt as if it gripped her heart. Gandalf closed his eyes and placed a hand on Thorin's face. He whispered words Elwen may have recognized if she could hear anything besides the beating of her own heart. He could be saying, "Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey," for all she cared, as long as it worked.

Thorin's eyes fluttered open. He gasped for air and gulped it down, as if he'd been holding the breath for a long time.

"Elwen?" he gasped. "The Halfling?"

"It's alright," Gandalf said, his tone soothing and low. "They are here and quite safe."

Thorin began to struggling to his feet. Kili and Dwalin rushed to his side, hoisting him up. He shrugged them off, turning a fierce look to Elwen and Bilbo. He approached the Hobbit first.

"You!" Thorin grunted. "What were you doing? You nearly got yourself killed! Did I not say that you would be a burden? That you would not survive in the wild? That you had no place amongst us?"

Elwen surged forward, mouth open and ready to spit out some very nasty swears that no one in Middle-earth had probably ever heard, when Thorin did something that shocked her right down to her toenails.

"I have never been so wrong in all my life!" Thorin grabbed Bilbo, wrapping his arms tightly around him, and pulled a very surprised Hobbit into a tight embrace. The dwarves cheered loudly and slapped each other on the back. Elwen's eyes filled with tears that she did not bother trying to blink back. Fili put an arm around her shoulder and she laid her head on his.

"I am sorry I doubted you," Thorin said as both men stepped back.

"No," said Bilbo, "I would have doubted me too. I'm not a hero, or a warrior," he looked at the group sheepishly. "Not even a burglar."

Thorin then turned his eyes to her. Fili removed his arm and smiled at her, giving her a little push. When he approached her, she wanted to take a step back. She was so sure he was about to reproach her for being foolish and rushing into danger.

"I don't want to hear it!" she snapped, crossing her arms. "You don't get to tell me I was reckless! You were reckless! You hug Bilbo and you look at me like, like…."

Thorin stepped so close to her that normal speech suddenly became beyond her. He pressed a finger to her lips gently, silencing her efficiently. The feel of his rough finger on her lips made her shudder.

"It was reckless," he said with a pained chuckle. "And brave, though maybe a bit stupid."

Her eyes narrowed and she thought about biting his finger. He laughed outright. God, his smile is more brilliant than the sunset in Rivendell.

Thorin leaned down and pressed his forehead to hers. The sentiment shocked her; it was such an intimate gesture for the Dwarves and here they were, sharing this moment.

"You put yourself in quite a bit of danger on my account, but you saved my life, Elwen Greenleaf," he said softly so that only she could hear. "I am in your debt."

Lacking anything intelligent to say, she simply muttered, "Don't worry about it. Just try not to jump into anymore Warg's mouths, if you don't mind. Besides, no Dwarf wants to be in debt to an Elf. Half-elf. Whatever."

 _So it turns out I'm awkward in two worlds, not just one._

She tried to step back, but Thorin would not relent. His thumb brushed across her cheek, the leather of his bracers rough on her skin, and all thoughts of protest quickly died.

"I do not mind being in debt to you," he said almost shyly. His tone was surprising; the normally confident leader was looking at her with a great deal of longing, and even more uncertainty. It made her feel almost bold.

"Well," she said softly, lifting her hand and laying it atop his. "I suppose I'll have to find a way for you to repay me."

Thorin pulled back and gazed her in a way that made her wonder if he would kiss her right then and there. But then the Eagles flapped their great wings and flew past them all, the wind from their flapping feeling cool against her face.

Elwen watched them go for a moment. The next time she saw these magnificent creatures, her mission in Middle-earth would be over, one way or another.

Suddenly, Thorin's eyes focused on a point over her shoulder, a look of pain and absolute awe sliding across his stern features. He strode forward and Elwen turned around, following his gaze along with everyone else.

"Is that," Bilbo said, "what I think it is?"

Thorin strode to the edge of the Carrock, a smile lifting his lips once more. In the distance, Elwen spied the outline of a single, solitary mountain kissing the sunrise.

"Erebor," said Gandalf, leaning heavily on his staff. "The last of the great Dwarf Kingdoms of Middle-earth."

Elwen saddled up to Thorin's side and he slipped his hand into hers, intertwining their fingers.

"Our home," Thorin said, the pride and happiness at seeing his ancestral homeland filling his voice.

"A raven," said Oin as a little bird chirped and flitted past. "The birds are returning to the mountain."

It felt strange to hear such a chipper song from the bird after a night filled with blood and horror.

"That, my dear Oin, is a thrush," said Gandalf.

Thorin squeezed her hand and looked down at her fondly. "But we'll take it as a sign-a good omen."

"You're right," said Bilbo, sounding relieved. "I do believe the worst is behind us."

But a darkness loomed around the Lonely Mountain that the others could not see. A shadow lay over the land, a sinister mist that Elwen could not penetrate with her Elf eyes. _And my visions_ , she thought, suppressing a shudder.

No, the worst was not behind them. Not by a long shot.

She looked up at Thorin, silver eyes meeting his clear blue, and she promised herself then and there that Azog the Defiler would die by her hand, and her hand alone.

 _He'll never touch Thorin again,_ Elwen vowed on everything she held holy. _Not while I live._

Here Ends Part 1

 **Hello Lords and Lassies! I'm uploading this chapter a bit early because I'm going to be rather busy this weekend. I know it's short, but we are now onto Part 2! Who's excited? ME! I've got so much planned and am really looking forward to putting it out into the world. I'm not sure when I'll begin uploading Part 2. Maybe the middle of this week, seeing as this one was so short? I'm almost caught up to myself and once I am, the upload schedule won't be consistent anymore. Nothing I can do about it as real life often gets in the way of the fanfic life.**

 **Again thank you to all who read, followed, favorited , and reviewed! I forever appreciate you all!**

 **SunnySides: Hahaha well, let's hope that what he thinks in the heat of the moment is how he truly feels when he finds out her true ancestry! And thanks, I'll keep it in mind! Thanks for sticking with me!**

 **Pallysdeeks: Not much Kili action for you in this chapter, but oh my do I have things planned for him in the days ahead. You are gonna feel so sad for our young lad! Thank you for reviewing, as always you're such a sweetheart!**

 **Carre:**

 **Yes, I'm sorry the chapter was short, and this one even shorter. But it was needed so that I could wrap up Part 1 nice and neatly. Soon we'll be back to long chapters once more, I promise! And I make no promises as to who Elwen ends up with! I like writing love triangles (that will be a theme in a lot of my fanfictions haha) and I like them even more when they have a twist! Thank you for the lovely review! Yours are always a joy to read!**

 **Alrighty then, I'll be seeing you all probably either the middle of next week, or perhaps this weekend if I've got the time, which I probably won't. But we'll see ;)**

 **Cheers – L**


	16. Chapter 16 Matters of the Heart

Here Begins Part 2

 **Chapter 16 Matters of the Heart**

The company of Thorin Oakenshield was battered, bruised, and a little worse for wear, but they were alive. As long as they were alive, little else mattered.

They didn't stay long on the Carrock, where the Eagles had dropped them. The climb down was long and hard, for no one had escaped injury. Elwen Greenleaf's sharp, Elven eyes watched as Fili and Kili helped their uncle down the rock, her eyes watchful, ready. If they slipped, she would catch them.

Dwalin, too, was ever observant, ready to leap to his King's aid at a moment's notice. He had been silent as the company gazed upon their ancestral homeland. Even the warrior had felt the chill. Erebor. For some of the company, it was their first time to look upon the peaks of what was known as the Lonely Mountain. For others, it was their first sight of home in 60 long years.

Gandalf the Grey was the last to make the decent. He was watching each member of the company carefully, observing how the night's happenings had effected each of them. Everyone was covered in scrapes and bruises and could use a washing. Nori was favoring his right leg, and Bifur had blood on his face. Otherwise, everyone's injuries were minor, except for Thorin, of course.

 _Fool of a Dwarf_ , Gandalf had thought hotly when he'd worked to heal the worst of it. Healing magic was not his area of expertise, after all. But what little he did know had, thankfully, been successful and Thorin was able to quickly rise.

Gandalf had been pleasantly surprised to see Thorin embrace Bilbo Baggins. Even the wizened Wizard must admit to being shocked by the Hobbit's insane act of bravery. He had known all along that Bilbo was capable of great feats, but to face down Azog the Defiler? He'd have never guessed. _But isn't that usually the way of heroes_ , he mused. They are often found in the most unlikely of places, made from the most seemingly ordinary of folk.

Elwen Greenleaf, however, had not surprised him in the least.

Elwen had sprung from the tree, sword in each hand, and dispatched several Orcs in order to reach Thorin's side. In all his years, Gandalf had never seen an Elf stand in front of a Dwarf in an act of such fierce loyalty. And yet, he had expected nothing less of her. From the moment Elwen stepped into the bookshop back _there_ , Gandalf had known that she was a young lady out of time. That she was brave, and strong, and not completely human. He knew that she would be the one to stand between the line of Durin and their fall.

And when Thorin had embraced her, and intertwined his fingers with hers, Gandalf was still unsurprised.

From the moment Thorin and Elwen first locked eyes, Gandalf had sensed a spark between them. As it happened, fire _was_ his specialty, and he knew it when he saw it. Granted, at first, the possibility of violence was great, but overtime the pair had come to see in one another what Gandalf had seen in them both all along. They did not have an easy road ahead, however, and he did not know in what ways their new found bond would be tested.

Gandalf's eyes fell upon Kili then. The youngest nephew of Thorin Oakenshield and by far the most reckless, though his older brother gives him a run for his coin. Gandalf watched as Kili's handsome face fell as the young Dwarf observed Thorin and Elwen. He had quickly turned away and stared at the mountain like everyone else, but his dark eyes were unseeing.

The Dwarfish concept of finding their "One" was complicated at best. There were so few Dwarf females that the men often found themselves competing for the heart of the same woman. It was never easy for the man not chosen, and they usually remained alone for the rest of their lives. Many Dwarf men were content without a mate, but not all. Not Kili.

It seemed the boy was not as reckless with his heart as with everything else.

Just before the band dispersed to make their way to the ground, Gandalf watched Elwen turn toward Kili. Pain flashed across her face so quickly that, if he hadn't been paying close attention, he would have missed it. It was as if a thread connected the two and she could feel his heart aching.

 _Interesting_ , thought Gandalf. Perhaps the same way two Dwarf men have the same One, maybe a women can have more than one soul mate.

How dreadfully difficult that knowledge would be for everyone involved. How painful.

Gandalf sighed. Yes, they all must tread a very treacherous path. A very difficult path, indeed.

* * *

As grateful to the Eagles as Elwen was, she didn't think it would've hurt them to drop the company off on the bloody ground. No, they just had to leave them atop this ridiculously tall Carrock.

She supposed the glimpse of Erebor had been worth it. The look of awe on the Dwarves' faces had nearly sent her weeping. Of course, that didn't stop her from shouting out every swear word she knew as they climbed down from that cursed spot. Some swears were so bad that she heard Dori yell, "That isn't very lady like," over the wind and Fili and Kili's laughter. Everyone laughed when she told Dori where he could stick his manners.

By the time they made it down, the sun was shining and everyone was exhausted and hungry. The only thing they'd escaped Goblin town with were their weapons. Elwen mourned for the change of clothes that had been in her pack, but counted herself fortunate to still have her swords and knives, bow and quiver, as well as all limbs and extremities. Losing some extra clothes was worth escaping torture. It was unfortunate to lose the food, though. And all the cooking utensils. And bedrolls. _Bollocks_ , she thought. _Bollocks_.

They found a secluded clearing to make camp. One large boulder was at their backs, so the Orcs couldn't surround them at least. But they'd hear the howling long before their camp was found. Thorin had wanted to press on. They didn't know how great a lead the Eagles had given them over Azog and his pack, and Thorin was eager to put as many leagues as possible between them. Oin, however, had insisted they stop.

"Everyone has wounds to attend to, especially you," scolded the medic.

When Thorin had insisted he was perfectly well, Elwen scowled. She walked over and punched him hard in the ribs. He gasped, then shouted something in the Dwarves native tongue that sounded rather nasty.

"You'll let Oin tend to you," she said, leaving no room for arguments.

Thorin's anger melted away as his eyes fell on her dirt and blood covered face. He touched her chin gently, eyeing a cut that would likely scar.

"Alright," he said quietly, "but only if you go first." Elwen started to protest but he cut her off. "You were struck with heavy chains, Elwen. I know you're strong, but you aren't as sturdy as we are. Let Oin have a look at you."

Her back was sore, but it was nothing compared to the agony that had been her ribs. When she went to argue once more, it was Kili who spoke. He'd been so quiet since they had made it to the ground. She winced, remembering the look on his face after Thorin had embraced her.

"Thorin's right," said Kili. "Let Oin take care of you."

She heard what he didn't say. _Let Oin take care of you, like_ I _couldn't take care of you_. Kili had fought as hard as Thorin to get to her when the Goblins attacked her with the chairs. And when she had run after Thorin during his fight with Azog, Kili had run after _her_.

"Okay," she said, looking at the ground. She couldn't look Kili in the face.

"Splendid," Bofur said, sounding relieved and unaware of any tension.

They set up camp and Fili and Kili were sent out to hunt. Luckily, a few of the Dwarves still carried water skins and Bofur found a stream not far from their camp. Once Oin had fresh water, he set about cleaning and binding wounds, starting with Elwen.

She hesitated to take off her top. All of the Dwarves, Bilbo, and Gandalf turned around to give her privacy, and she threatened that anyone who turned around would wish they'd stayed with the Goblin King. Oin poured some water on her back and used a rag to wipe away some of the filth. The sting caught her by surprise and she bit her lip and swore. Thorin tensed.

"Is she alright?" he asked anxiously.

"The chains broke the skin in a few places," said Oin in a calming tone, ignoring her swearing as he continued to clean the cuts. "They aren't deep, so a bit of ointment should be fine. She'll be sore."

Elwen was fine with sore. She figured she'd stay sore pretty much for the rest of their journey.

She'd been with the company for over a month now. It was hard to believe they had come so far in such a short amount of time, though the Eagles had helped with that. Seeing Erebor looming in the distance only served to remind her of how very far they had left to go.

When Oin was done, she insisted he close his eyes while she put her shirt back on. He chuckled and said, "I'm a Dwarven medic, lass. Yours wouldn't be the first pair of-,"

"Finish that sentence and I'll stab you in the eye," she snarled.

In the end, Oin closed his eyes.

* * *

Unfortunately, as soon as Oin closed his eyes, Fili and Kili came bounding out of the trees, a rabbit in each hand. Thorin tried to call out for them to stop, but he was too late. Elwen shrieked and the boys dropped their rabbits to shield their eyes.

"I didn't see a thing!" Kili cried.

"Well I did!" Fili said cheerfully.

Thorin heard a loud _smack_ and his oldest nephew cry out.

"Can we turn around yet?" Balin asked.

More _smacks_ and _ouches_.

"We'd better," Dwalin said wryly. "She might kill the lad."

They let a few seconds go by before turning, figuring Fili deserved what he got. When they did, they found Fili on his back, looking up at a very angry, red faced Elwen brandishing a branch from a nearby tree. Kili stood a foot away, bent over in silent laughter, happy to watch his brother be beaten soundly by a girl.

Thorin approached a fully clothed but seething Elwen as cautiously as he would a wounded animal.

"Fili, get up," Dwalin snapped. "You should be ashamed of yourself."

Thorin ignored his nephew, his eyes on Elwen.

"Give me the branch," he said calmly, trying not to laugh.

"He's still breathing," she said through clenched teeth.

"Play dead," Gloin stage whispered.

Fili tried scooting away from Elwen on his back but she whacked him in the leg with her branch.

"Get on your feet, ya ninny!" Dwalin leaned down and grabbed the front of Fili's shirt with a meaty hand and dragged him to his feet. "I can't wait to tell your mother how you cowered on the ground while this wisp of a girl beat you with a stick."

Elwen's fierce glare turned to Dwalin. "You want some?" she growled.

Dwalin threw Fili in front of him like a shield.

"Enough," Thorin said, unable to hold back his laughter. Dis was going to love Elwen. He'd never met a woman as fierce as his sister, not until he'd entered the Hobbit's home.

Elwen threw down the branch and stomped toward the trees. "I'm going to the stream," she grumbled, and disappeared.

"Should someone go with her?" Fili asked, looking after her worriedly.

Gandalf chuckled. "I do not think that would be wise. She is capable of looking after herself."

Fili looked at Thorin sheepishly. "I should apologize. I was only teasing; I didn't actually see anything."

"I would only go after her if you're in the mood to be drowned," Bofur said, picking up the rabbits and handing them to Kili and Fili to be cleaned. "We'll call her for supper, if she's not come back by then."

Before Thorin could protest, Oin insisted on getting right to work on his wounds. Thorin stripped off his shirt and allowed himself to be examined.

"These look partially healed already," Oin said with some amount of surprise. "Well done, Mister Gandalf."

The Wizard was sitting next to the healer, smoking his pipe and seemingly relaxing for the first time in days.

"There's quite a bit of dried blood, lad," Oin said to Thorin. "I think it best you go take a dip in the stream. Gandalf seems to have patched you up well enough." Oin patted his King on the shoulder and stood, ready to attend to the other various wounds the rest of the company were sporting.

Thorin hesitated and the Wizard chuckled.

"I doubt very much that your presence would upset her," said Gandalf, blowing out a ring of smoke. When the Wizard saw Thorin still had not risen, he narrowed his eyes at the Dwarf. "What are your intentions toward Ms. Greenleaf?"

Thorin raised an eyebrow. "What business is it of yours?" He was unnerved by the question, mostly because he did not exactly know the answer.

Gandalf eyed him shrewdly. "I brought her on this quest, if you do recall."

Thorin could tell by Gandalf's tone that the subject wouldn't be dropped. He sighed and took his time shrugging his top back on, but he still had no answer to give.

"I don't know, Gandalf."

He was aware of how helpless he sounded and ground his teeth. Never before had a woman made Thorin Oakenshield feel so weak.

"Then I suggest you figure it out." Gandalf used his pipe to point in the direction of the fire. Thorin looked to see his nephews skinning the rabbits. "Because Kili has. Do not doddle with matters of the heart, Thorin. Everyone will end up worse off if you do."

"And what do you want me to do?" Thorin asked in a low, harsh tone. "I have a responsibility to my people that outweighs all else. This quest, it's too important for this type of…distraction."

Distraction was the perfect way to describe Elwen. In Goblin Town, Thorin had been out of his mind when he saw them hit her. A rage had filled his chest, and yet fear had nearly choked him. They were all in danger, he should have been more concerned about his own men, his nephews. But his mind was consumed with Elwen, with getting her to safety. It was all that mattered, even if he died doing it.

Gandalf gave the Dwarf a sympathetic smile. Sometimes Thorin felt as through the Wizard could peek right into his mind. It was not a pleasant feeling.

"My people would never accept an Elven Queen," Thorin muttered, knowing defeat when he saw it.

"They will," Gandalf said kindly, "if she is your One."

Thorin's eyes snapped to the old man. His One. He remembered his last desperate thoughts before darkness took him after his encounter with the Pale Orc. _I cannot lose my One._ He'd been trying very hard not to think about that.

A cool breeze blew through the camp, but that's not what made the Dwarf King shiver.

"I'm not sure,-"

"Oh yes you are," said Gandalf, exasperated.

Thorin looked over at Kili. _Figure it out, because he has._

"Kili is like a son to me," Thorin said softly, regretfully.

The last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt his nephew. Kili was so young and had not seen very much of the world. It was likely that his infatuation with Elwen was passing, but if Thorin were to pursue her, it would still be a blow.

Gandalf put down his pipe. "You have many choices ahead of you, Thorin Oakenshield. But this isn't only for you to decide. What does Elwen want?"

Thorin honestly didn't know. He remembered the tender way Kili had kissed her forehead as he left her chambers their first night in Rivendell. The way she had looked at him…it spoke of more than simple friendship, no matter what she would have Kili believe.

But then there was the way she had let Thorin hold her on the bridge. The way she had clung to him as though she were a drowning woman and he was the very air she needed. If Kili had not called for them, he would have kissed her then and there and let himself be lost.

Thorin stood. "I'm going to go find Elwen. I don't want her out there alone."

* * *

Kili watched as his uncle disappeared into the trees, headed in the same direction Elwen had gone. He'd been paying more attention to the quiet conversation between Thorin and Gandalf than skinning the rabbit, knowing that they were talking about her despite being unable to hear.

"Give me that," Fili said, snatching the rabbit away from his brother. "If it's left to you, we'll never eat. What are you thinking about so hard? You're going to hurt yourself."

Fili went to work on the rabbit and Kili sank down to the ground, feeling the heavy exhaustion of the previous days finally settle on him. He didn't remember the last time he slept for more than a handful of hours. Rivendell, surely. He rubbed his eyes.

"Ki," said Fili, drawing the younger Dwarf's attention.

Kili looked up into the worried face of his brother. Only a few years older, Fili had always been protective of Kili. He remembered the desperation in Fili's voice when they had been separated on the mountain. And when Kili thought Fili had been crushed…it had been too much to bare.

"What's wrong, _nadadith_?" What's wrong, _little brother?_

Kili simply inclined his head toward the direction of the stream. Toward Elwen and Thorin. He'd never come right out and told Fili about his feelings for Elwen, but his brother knew. They could speak to one another without opening their mouths as easily as if they were shouting.

"He just doesn't want her to be alone," Fili snorted. "Don't know why. All she needs is a tree branch and she's lethal."

Kili smiled a little. It _had_ been amusing, watching her whack Fili with a stick as if he were a dirty rug. The smile, however, quickly faded away.

"It's more than that, Fi."

Fili's eyes filled with sympathy. "I know," he replied softly.

Kili sighed and rubbed his chin, scratching at his thin beard. "I'm a fool," he muttered darkly.

"Of course you are," Fili teased, but added, "but not for how you feel about Elwen. I don't think that's something you can control."

"It should be," Kili muttered.

Fili was quiet for a moment. Kili eyed him. He looked like he wanted to say something, but hesitated. Finally, he sighed.

"She feels something more than friendship for you, Kili." He continued when Kili scoffed. "I'm serious. I've seen the way she looks at you. It's not one sided."

Kili sighed. Deep down, he'd known that. He'd known she felt _something_ ; she told him as much the night she drenched him with Elven wine.

"But it's not enough," Kili said heavily. "It doesn't match what she feels for Thorin."

Fili reached out and squeezed his brother's shoulder. "No," he admitted, "but it's not nothing, either."

Kili couldn't help but smile at his brother, the one person he could always count on.

"Aye," he said, forcing himself to believe what he was saying. "It's not nothing."

* * *

Elwen had plopped down on the sandy shore next to the gently flowing little creek. The sound of the water helped relieve the tension in her shoulders, but only slightly. Her back ached and her muscles screamed every time she moved. She thought about getting into the water, maybe scrubbing out her shirt on one of the large stones half sunk at the edge of the water. She decided against it however, since anyone could come barreling out of the trees at any moment, friend or foe, and she didn't want to be caught unaware. Especially shirtless.

She wasn't sure how long she sat by the water. The sun was inching its way across the sky, and even though she was tired, she didn't leave. Elwen had had precious few moments to herself since striking out from Bag End, and none since Rivendell. As much as she enjoyed her companions company, she needed to sort through some things and couldn't do it with all their noise.

How long had it been since they left Imladris? She had lost track of days and nights as they traversed the Misty Mountains. That was a trek she hoped to never make again. Damn Goblin's and their booby-trapped caves.

Elwen shuddered as she looked down at her hands. They were covered in grime and blood and she didn't want to think of what else. She remembered hacking their way through Goblin Town, but it felt as if she were remembering someone else's fight. The blades had felt like extensions of her arms. Fighting had felt as natural and easy as breathing. The blades of her Elven swords were sharp as razors and severed limb from body, heads from necks, and opened bellies so easily. Too easily.

How many Goblins had she lain waste to? There was something black beneath her fingernails. Orc blood. How many Orcs did she split open to reach Thorin? It didn't matter. Elwen would have slew thousands if she had to in order to save him. There wasn't anything she was unwilling to sacrifice, and that frightened her. The killing, the ease of it, frightened her. But what had truly shaken her to the bone was the appearance of Azog the Defiler.

The Goblin King had confirmed a suspicion that had been growing in her mind since the Orc pack found them upon the East Road. They were being hunted, and Azog had put a bounty on Thorin's head. But why now? It wasn't simply vengeance for his defeat at Moria. If that was all, why wait all these years? No; Azog had a master, and this master wanted to stop them from reaching the Lonely Mountain. She only hoped she lived long enough to find out why.

A twig snapped behind her. She twisted her head around to see Thorin standing at the edge of the tree line. He smiled, looking every bit as tired as she felt.

"I came to see if you were alright," he said, walking over and sitting down next to her in the sand. He was close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off his skin.

A memory flashed across her vision: Thorin laying limply in the pale Warg's mouth. She blinked furiously, wishing the thoughts away.

"You're shaking," Thorin said, concerned.

Elwen looked down at her hands again and saw that they were indeed shaking.

"I'm covered in blood," she said, her voice strained and hoarse. "My blood. Their blood… _Your_ …" She swallowed. _Your blood._

Thorin stood and extended his hand. She took it and allowed herself to be drawn up. He began to take off his boots and socks, motioning for her to do the same. He was quiet as he moved both sets away from the water, then began to roll of the bottom of his breeches. A moment later, Thorin silently lead them both into the softly flowing creek.

They stood in a shallow part of the stream, and Thorin bent to cup water into his hands. He then used his own fingers to begin to scrub Elwen's hands clean. His fingers, rough from years of handling weapons and the like, worked magic on the grime and filth covering her hands. He was quiet until freshly scrubbed pink skin began to emerge.

"Your hands are soft," he said quietly, as if speaking loudly would break whatever spell they once again found themselves under.

"Compared to yours" she replied.

He chuckled, a warm sound vibrating in his chest. "That's what happens when you work in a forge."

"Did you work in the forges of Erebor before the dragon came?" she asked. He nodded and laughed when she looked surprised. "I thought physical labor was below a prince's station."

Thorin scoffed. "Prince's must be very different where you come from."

Elwen shrugged. "You were the first person…errr….Dwarf of royal blood I'd ever met."

"Well, Dwarves aren't afraid of hard work, regardless of their station," he replied. He had begun to work his hands up her arms, scrubbing away the dirt that caked the inside of her elbows. "Besides, I've always liked to work with my hands."

Elwen felt a shiver rise up her spine. Thorin's eyes grew concerned, and she blushed and looked away. She wasn't exactly sure what it was that she was feeling, but the warmth pooling in her stomach was not entirely unpleasant.

 _Is this desire_ , she wondered? _Is this what it feels like to want someone?_

Elwen wasn't sure how long they stood in the water. She didn't care that her pants were soaked or that the water was cold. Thorin was holding her hand and looking at her in a way that made her blood run hot.

"Your wounds," he said, his voice low and full of gravel. "Do they pain you?"

Elwen smiled and shrugged. "I'll live," she replied. "I think I'm still just freaked out by the whole thing."

"Sometimes," Thorin said with a chuckle, "you sound like you've lived in the Halls of Elrond your entire life. Other times, I remember you were brought up in an unknown land."

Elwen frowned. "I suppose you'd rather not to be reminded that I'm half-Elf."

"I don't care about that," he replied. "I like being reminded of our first meeting."

"But why?" Elwen asked, surprised.

Thorin smiled brilliantly, brushing a piece of hair out of her face.

"Because you were unlike anyone I had ever met before," he said. "It took me a little while to appreciate, however. What did you call me that night? A shrimp? I still don't know what that means."

Elwen laughed and explained that a shrimp was a small fish that was delicious when fried. Thorin looked appropriately horrified.

The pair sloshed their way through the water back to the bank of the stream. Despite having pushed up the legs of their pants, they were still both more than a little damp. Elwen longed for a clean set of clothes. The ones she wore could use a good scrubbing, but she didn't fancy walking around soaked.

A light breeze rustled the leaves of the nearby trees. The nights were growing colder, which meant Durin's Day was drawing closer with every sunset.

A sound cut through the quiet of the forest. The piercing, unmistakable howl of a wolf. The pitch was high, however, and far in the distance.

"That wasn't a Warg," Thorin said with some relief. "We should be fine for a little while. The wolves will doubtfully give us trouble, but we'll keep watch in the night none the less."

Elwen nodded, but a shiver snaked its way through her. The howl brought the previous night's memories to the forefront once more.

"I thought you were going to die," she whispered, looking down at her now clean hands. She could still see the black blood of the Orc's dripping from her fingers. She blinked, knowing it was all in her mind, but her hands felt like they would forever be stained. "I couldn't bare it. I just couldn't…"

She closed her eyes tightly against the burning of tears, but it was no use. Hot tears spilled out and clung to her lashes and face. Thorin leaned over and dashed them away with a calloused thumb, then snaked a muscled arm around her and pulled her close. She was reminded of when he held her on the bridge in Rivendell. Had that truly only been a handful of days ago? It felt like a lifetime.

"You were the last thing I saw before the darkness took me." Thorin's voice sounded like the rumble of distant thunder. "I wanted so desperately for you to run."

She looked up at him, wide eyed. "As if I could ever leave you!" she rasped, voice thick with emotion.

"I know," he smiled and traced her jaw lazily with his fingertips. She shivered again, but this time it was not from the cold. "You were glorious, standing in the firelight, ready to fight to the death. And I knew you would, that you'd never give up while you drew breath. Mahal knows I have never seen a sight more beautiful in all my years."

Elwen's breath hitched. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words would come. She looked into his face and saw nothing but sincerity.

"I know you would never run from a fight," he continued, "not even if I begged. But the thought of losing you…" Thorin took a deep, ragged breath and closed his eyes for a moment, gathering himself. When he opened them, the look he pinned her with made breathing rather difficult. "The thought of losing you forced me to acknowledge how important you are to me. I thought perhaps in Rivendell it was passing, but no."

His voice broke then, as if he'd become as incapable of speech as she. He turned bodily toward her and took her face softly in his hands. His eyes searched hers, begging for permission, and she granted it by allowing her eyes to slip closed and leaning in. She felt him pull her closer and she reached out and gripped the front of his tunic. She felt the heat of his breath on her lips…

 _SNAP!_

Thorin released her and stood quickly, putting himself in front of her in a swift motion that seemed strangely instinctual. Elwen scoffed and moved beside him in time to see Fili coming toward them.

"You," Elwen snarled. Of all people to interrupt!

"I was only joking earlier, I swear!" Fili cried when Elwen took a step toward him. "The rabbit is done and they sent me to fetch you."

Elwen gave him a look. "You didn't see anything?"

"On my honor as a Dwarf of Erebor, I didn't!" he vowed.

"Then you may live," she said with a heavy sigh.

Thorin grinned. "Let's go eat," he said, and Fili lead them back to camp.

* * *

Thorin was silent throughout most of supper. It was a sparse meal of roasted rabbit and roots, but was quite welcome after the past few days. Elwen sat across the fire from him, between Bilbo and Gandalf, smiling sweetly as the Hobbit prattled on and the Wizard laughed.

He wondered at how easily Elwen seemed to fit everywhere she went. She looked equally at home in the middle of the woods next to the fire as she had in Rivendell. Perhaps that came from a past of wandering, but never truly belonging anywhere.

Thorin was struck by how little he knew about her life before she joined the company. The only thing he knew was she came from a place so far away that he'd never heard of it. Did she come from a land across the sea? Wherever it was, it must have been a very different place, because she was a very different kind of woman.

When supper was over and the sun had disappeared below the horizon, everyone began to designate spots for sleep. He thought about bunking down somewhere close to Elwen, but before he could manage, she found her usual spot nestled between his nephews. He watched as Kili leaned over and kissed her lightly on her hairline and she smiled. A look passed between the two, some kind of mutual understanding that looked to Thorin a little like sorrow. Thorin laid down on his back and fell asleep quickly, very much regretting Fili's interrupting back at the stream.

Hours later when the moon was high and the night was still but for the breath of thirteen Dwarves, a Hobbit, a Wizard, and a half-Elf, a sound ripped through the camp, waking the company from a dead sleep. The deep, raspy howl of a Warg pierced the night.

Thorin sat bolt upright, his hand gripping Orcrist tightly. Elwen had also jumped up, and when the second howl reached their ears, she gasped.

"Run."

 **Authors Note:**

 **Part 2!**

 **Hope this long chapter made up for how short the last few have been!**

 **I just want to thank you all for sticking with me throughout Part 1. This has been so much fun to write, and the love for Elwen has been so gratifying to see. I started this story for one of my best friends and I'm so glad I decided to share it with you all! I really hope this is a strong beginning to the second part of our story. I hope you're all looking forward to the heartache I plan on putting our feisty Elwen through! And not to mention our poor heroes, Thorin and Kili!**

 **Thank you to all who have favorited and followed the story! Please feel free to leave a review. I'm very curious; are you Team Kili or Team Thorin? Where do you think Elwen is headed on this journey? What do you think SHOULD happen? I'd love to hear your thoughts!**

 **Pallysdeeks: Yes! So scary, but I knew he'd be alright. I've read the book several times, so I knew how it ended haha. Thank you, I'm glad you think I'm doing the story justice while making it my own! And don't worry, Kili is prominently featured throughout the rest of the story! But you should definitely be worried haha. Poor Kili. Looking forward to seeing what you think of this chapter!**

 **Alxxman: OMG you're reviews seriously made my day. Cracked me up while being super flattering, so thank you so much! I write original fiction as well as fan fiction, so I've had lots of practice as far as finding my particular voice and style. I'm so glad Elwen isn't coming off Mary Sue. I've worked on her character for a LONG time! I'm so glad you're enjoying her, she's very special to me! And wooooot we've got a Team Thorin here people! Please feel free to review again, it seriously made my day!**

 **BiscuitsandGravy: Yes! We are here, prepare yourself!**

 **Carre: Hahaha Well, I'm sure there will be plenty of moments in the future for Elwen to lose her temper. Or perhaps we'll be seeing a new side of her from now on. Who knows! And thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed Part 1! I hope Part 2 lives up to expectations!**

 **Electrogirl88: Thank you so so so much! I hope it lives up to expectations! My goal is to break hearts without apology muwahahahaha!**

 **L'alchimiste de Castille: Thank you so much! Can't wait to see what you think of this chapter!**

 **Debatable-cerealkiller: First off, LOVE the name! And secondly, thank you so much! I really hope you like what I've been cooking up for our dear Elwen!**

 **Alright Lords and Lassies, it's time for me to go. I hope you enjoy the chapter. Don't forget to leave a review and let me know what you think! I look forward to reading from you all every single week. Never gets old!**

 **Cheers – L**


	17. Chapter 17 The House of Beorn

**Chapter 17 The House of Beorn**

Once again, the company found themselves on the run from an Orc pack. This time, however, they'd had warning and were able to get a decent head start. They stumbled through the trees, doing their best to be as quiet as a blind, exhausted group of sixteen could manage, which wasn't very.

Elwen knew it didn't matter; the Orcs were mounted on swift footed beasts with teeth and claws and a keen sense of smell. It was only a matter of time before they were overrun once more, and they did not have the strength to fight. She desperately hoped Gandalf had some other plan up his sleeve, though she doubted the Eagles would be back to save them.

The further they ran, the rockier and mountainous their surroundings became. Elwen nearly fell when her foot twisted on a rock, but Fili had grabbed her arm tightly and kept her on her feet.

Gandalf called them to a halt and insisted on Bilbo going to scout the Orc's location. Much to Elwen's surprise, the Hobbit simply nodded and slipped away into the darkness. Bilbo had changed so much during their journey, it was quite an extraordinary sight.

Elwen wasn't sure how far they'd gone or how long they'd been trying to evade Azog and his ilk. Several leagues, at least. The hints of orange and pink peeking over the Eastern horizon were becoming brighter and their surroundings more pronounced.

Thorin moved to Elwen's side. He reached out for her hand, running a thumb over her knuckles.

"Don't be frightened," she said, smirking. "I'm here to protect you."

Thorin chuckled lightly and squeezed her fingers. "Then I am in good hands."

When Bilbo scrambled his way back to the company minutes later, everyone was ravenous for information.

"How close is the pack?" Thorin asked urgently.

"Too close," Bilbo said defeated. "A couple of leagues, no more. But that is not the worst of it."

"Have the Wargs picked up our sent?" asked Dwalin.

"Not yet, but they will do," Bilbo replied. "We have another problem."

"Did they see you?" Gandalf asked. "They saw you."

"No, that's not it."

Gandalf smiled and turned toward the Dwarves.

"What did I tell you?" he said proudly. "Quiet as a mouse. Excellent burglary material."

As the group chortled and praised Bilbo's skill, Elwen could see the look of irritation building on the Hobbit's face. Sometimes she wondered if Dwarves' skulls were is thick as the rocks they lived inside.

"Shut your bloody traps!" Elwen snapped. The company fell silent. "He's trying to tell us something!"

"Yes, thank you!" Bilbo said, polite until the end. "I am trying to tell you there is _something else_ out there!"

Elwen's eyes widened. Oh Jesus Murphy, what now?

"What form did it take?" Gandalf asked, all amusement sapped from his voice. "Like a bear?"

"Y—yes, yes," Bilbo eyed Gandalf suspiciously. "But bigger, much bigger."

"A bear?" Elwen swallowed hard.

Splendid.

Trolls, Goblins, Stone Giants, Wargs, Now Were-bears. Sure. Of course. Why not?

Becoming bear scat was not part of the plan. Nope. Not what she signed up for. A dragon? Sure, fine. That scaly son of a bitch would fry her before she even felt it. A bear would eat her. Alive. Probably starting at the feet, knowing her luck.

Bofur turned on the Wizard, eyeing him accusatorily. "You knew about this beast?"

Gandalf didn't reply. He walked a few steps away, obviously thinking deeply.

"I say we double back," Bofur suggested.

Gandalf took a few steps and looked out into the fields below them. The sun was becoming more and more visible by the second.

Thorin dropped her hand and scratched his beard thoughtfully. "And be run down by a pack of Orcs?"

"There is a house," Gandalf said heavily, turning back toward the company. "It's not far from here, where we might take refuse."

There was something about the old man's tone that made Elwen's shoulders tense.

"Whose house?" Thorin asked. "Are they friend or foe?"

"Neither," said Gandalf, leveling Elwen with a look. "He will help us, or he will kill us."

Something about the conversation was stirring her memories. A house in the wilderness…a man who could transform…Elwen's eyes widened. Gandalf nodded. _Oh_ , she thought. _Oh we're in so much trouble._

She could not remember overly much about Skin-changers, but Gandalf had briefly mentioned them when preparing her for the journey. From his information plus scattered memories from _before_ , she knew enough to know that whoever the hell this Bear-guy was, he would most likely not be happy to find them in his house.

Thorin looked to his men, and then to her.

"What choice do we have?" he asked.

A second later, a roar split the night from somewhere behind them. Everyone turned toward the noise. Thorin threw Elwen behind him and, for once, she didn't protest. Oh yeah, big freaking bear.

"None," said Gandalf.

"Let's get the hell out of here!" Elwen shouted, breaking into a run.

* * *

Elwen was NOT going to be eaten by a bear.

The company ran with a renewed sense of purpose. It seemed that Elwen was not the only one who wasn't looking forward to meeting their new bear buddy. She jumped over streams with the energy of a young deer, the adrenaline pumping through her system making the sleepless night of battle seem far away. She knew that when she crashed, it would be hard, and prayed for the endurance to make it wherever Gandalf was leading them.

She heard the Wargs and Orcs behind them now. They were crashing and slashing their way through the forest with fervor. Either they wanted to catch up to the company very badly, or they also did not want to be eaten by a bear. Probably a little bit of both.

Another earth-shattering roar echoed through the trees. Elwen and the rest of the company stopped dead in their tracks, as did their pursuers. She didn't pause long, telling everyone to keep moving or she'd gladly leave them to become bear poop.

"Run!" cried Thorin.

"Bombur, come on!" Bofur said, grabbing his brother and pulling him along as the big man whimpered.

Elwen burst through the trees and found herself on a plain, visible and vulnerable. The house Gandalf had spoken of was surrounded by the biggest hedge she'd ever laid eyes on.

"To the house!" Gandalf cried. "Run!"

"Nope, nope, nope," Elwen muttered to herself, pumping her legs and arms as hard as she could. She was ahead of the group by quite a bit, but soon found Bombur, the fattest of the bunch, nearly keeping stride behind her. She looked at him wide eyed.

Elwen and Bombur came streaking through the gate and ran straight for the closed front door. Bombur threw all of his weight against the heavy, thick wood, and found himself flat on his back when it wouldn't budge. Elwen was kicking the door when the rest of the company caught up to her, adding their weight to the door, trying desperately to open it.

A roar and from the trees caused Elwen to briefly look over her shoulder while she beat on the door. That was when she saw it; a giant, snarling, salivating angry ass bear crashing through the trees. It began running toward them full speed.

"OPEN THE DOOR!" Gandalf shouted.

"Quickly!" yelled Thorin, who elbowed his way through the crowd pressed against the door. Leave it to their leader to keep a cool head while a rampaging Were-bear stamped toward them.

He managed to lift the exterior bolt and shove open the door. Everyone scrambled inside, but when they tried to slam the door, a snarling, drooling, very pissed off bear's head poked through the crack. It roared and slammed its body against the door as the company screamed and strained to close it. Bilbo unsheathed his sword and pointed it unsteadily at the bear.

For a second, Bilbo's plan seemed solid and she thought about sinking a knife into the bear's nose, but something told her that would be a poor choice. Instead, she decided her fist would do, and pulled back her arm. With a mighty shout, she slammed her fist into the bear's snout as hard as she could.

The bear roared when her fist made contact and it lurched itself out of the doorway. They slammed the door shut with a _BANG_ and pulled down the heavy latch. The wood seemed thick enough to hold, but Elwen backed away quickly just in case.

Everyone sighed as if they had all been holding their breath the entire time. Elwen leaned against Thorin, exhaustion finally catching up with her. He put a supportive arm around her waist and pulled her close.

"What _is_ that?" Ori asked, still gasping.

"Our host," Elwen said heavily.

Oin checked his hearing trumpet, not sure he'd heard her right. The rest of the company looked to her, then to Gandalf, in absolute disbelief.

"His name is Beorn," Gandalf said, grinning a bit, "and he's a Skin-changer. Sometimes he's a huge black bear. Sometimes he's a great strong man. The bear is unpredictable, but the man can be reasoned with. However, he is not overfond of Dwarves."

Elwen was beginning to see a pattern. It did not seem that many in Middle-earth _were_ overfond of Dwarves.

Ori peaked through a crack in the door, checking to see if the bear was still lumbering around.

"He's leaving!" he exclaimed.

"Come away from there!" Dori snapped, pulling his brother from the door. "It's not natural, none of it. It's obvious; he's under some dark spell."

"You're daft," Elwen rolled her eyes, exasperated.

"Don't be a fool," Gandalf said harshly. "He's under no enchantment but his own. Alright now, get some sleep, all of you. You'll be safe here tonight."

As the Dwarves moved about to find themselves a place to bed down, Elwen looked at Gandalf.

"I hope," he muttered.

 _Not bloody likely,_ she thought.

* * *

Elwen awoke with a start. At first she wasn't sure where she was. She vaguely remembered passing out after a beyond exhausting day of running from…

 _Oh, yeah. I'm in a Were-bears house sleeping in his hay._

Elwen looked around and found that she and Bilbo were the only two still laying down. The Hobbit began to stir, and Elwen stood up and stretched. She took a look around and saw the house doubled as some kind of barn as well.

Bilbo blinked, several giant bumble bees floating close to his face. Elwen laughed and helped the Hobbit to his feet.

"Where the hell did everyone go?" Elwen muttered crossly. Fili and Kili should have woken her.

It was then Elwen and Bilbo heard murmuring from the back of the house. They both wandered in the direction of the voices, finding the rest of the company clustered together, Bofur watching what appeared to be a huge man chop wood out in the yard. Every swing of his axe made a resounding thud, and they all seemed to be discussing what they should do.

Elwen came to stand next to Thorin, who was listening intently but not joining in on the debate. He smiled slightly when he felt her lean against him.

"How did you sleep?" he asked quietly, unfolding his arms to pick out a few pieces of hay still stuck in her hair.

"Like the dead," she replied, catching his hand and squeezing his fingers. "And you?"

"Fine," he replied, keeping a hold of her hand.

"I say we should leg it," Nori suggested. "Slip out the back way!"

"What?" Dwalin growled, grabbing Nori by the shoulder roughly. "I am not running from anyone, beast or no."

Before the Dwarves dissolved into angry shouting, Gandalf interjected.

"There is no point in arguing," he said, irritated. "We cannot past through the wilderland without Beorn's help. We will be hunted down before we even get to the forest."

Gandalf spied herself and Bilbo, the last two to wake.

"Bilbo, Elwen, there you are," he said, moving toward the door. "Now, this will require some delicate handling. We must tread very carefully. The last person to have startled him was torn to shreds."

Bilbo paled visibly and Elwen felt her stomach drop. She'd been hoping the bear chase had just been some crazy dream brought on by the mushrooms they had with their rabbit the night before. She peered out a window just as a very large, shirtless man split a piece of wood with the biggest axe she'd ever seen. Motherfu-

"I will go first," said Gandalf. "Bilbo, Elwen, you two come with me."

"Hey…is…is…" Bilbo stammered, being urged on by a jerk of Thorin's head. "Is this a good idea?"

"No," Elwen muttered, dropping Thorin's hand reluctantly. "But just like everything else on this mad journey, we're going to do it anyway."

Elwen strapped on her swords, doing her best not to seem frightened. There was no way in hell she was going outside to meet a guy who could morph into a bear like some sort of crazy Power Ranger without a weapon.

Thorin gripped her arm, making her pause.

"Be careful," he said softly, eyes full of worry.

"Aren't I always?" she smirked.

"No," chorused the Dwarves.

Elwen stuck out her tongue at the lot of them.

"Now, the rest of you," Gandalf instructed, "you just wait here. And don't come out until I give the signal."

"Right," said Bofur nervously. He was perched inside a windowsill looking out. "Wait for the signal."

"And no sudden movements or loud noises, and don't over crowd him," Gandalf instructed. "Only come out in pairs," he paused. "No actually Bombur, um, you count as two so you should come out alone."

Bombur bit into a carrot and simply inclined his head, as if to say that was fair enough.

"Remember, wait for the signal," Gandalf said, and lead them out into the yard.

As they walking out the door, Elwen heard Bofur ask, "What signal would that be?"

"We're all gonna die," she whispered darkly.

"What was that?" Bilbo asked.

"Nothing."

Elwen blinked hard when they stepped into the light of day. Beorn swung his axe down once again, and she glanced up at Gandalf. He made a face and smoothed back his hair. When he cleared his throat anxiously, Bilbo rounded on him.

"You're nervous," Bilbo accused.

Gandalf glared down at the Hobbit, but jerked to attention when he heard Beorn bring down his axe once more.

"Nervous," Gandalf repeated, looking back to Bilbo. "What nonsense."

"I'm going to throw you at him if he starts changing," Elwen said nastily, looking up at Gandalf with narrowed eyes.

He chose to ignore her, instead calling out to the Skin-changer.

"Good morning!" he said. Beorn simply kept chopping. Bilbo and Elwen took a step behind Gandalf, letting themselves be concealed by his robes. "Good morning!" the Wizard tried again, his voice a tad more sing-songy.

Beorn paused. He was an incredibly large man, far taller than Gandalf, with long light brown hair that fell down to the small of his muscular back.

"Who are you?" the man asked in a voice that sounded far too much like a growl.

Elwen tensed, her hand lightly touching the knife hanging from her belt.

"I'm Gandalf," he bowed. "Gandalf the Grey."

"Never heard of him," Beorn growled, turning fully toward them.

"I'm a Wizard," Gandalf explained. "Perhaps you've heard of my colleague Radagast the Brown. He resides in the southern borders of Mirkwood."

"What do you want?" asked Beorn. Most of his face was covered in hair, and his large eyes were the color of amber.

"Well, simply to thank you for your hospitality. You may have noticed that we took refuge in your lodgings here last night."

When Gandalf motioned toward the house, he revealed Elwen and Bilbo, who had been standing directly behind him. They'd been trying to conceal their presence for as long as possible, and Elwen cursed the Wizard when Beorn's eyes snapped to them and the grip on his axe tightened.

"Who is this little fellow and the girl?" he asked, scowling.

"Well, this would be Mr. Baggins of the Shire, and Lady Elwen of…well…"

Beorn lifted his axe as if readying to strike. "They aren't Dwarves, are they?"

"Why, no, no!" Gandalf said, faking amusement no doubt. "He's a _Hobbit_. Good family and unimpeachable reputation." He patted Bilbo's back. "And Elwen here-"

Beorn looked at her curiously, giving her a once over. "You have an Elf with you. You're awfully small for an Elf."

"Half-Elf, to be exact," she said, her fear of the bear not enough to keep her tongue in check. "And I'm plenty big enough to bop you on the nose again."

"Again?" Beorn scratched his very hairy chin.

Gandalf whacked her in the ankle with his staff.

"Don't poke the bear," he warned.

She elbowed him and he grunted.

"Tell the bear not to poke _me_!" she hissed.

"A Halfling, a Wizard, and a half-Elf," Beorn leaned on his axe. "How come you here?"

"Oh, well, the fact is that we've had a bad time of it from Goblins in the mountain."

"What did you go near Goblins for? Stupid thing to do."

"You are absolutely right." Gandalf gestured with his hand.

This must have been interpreted by Bofur as the signal the Dwarves were awaiting because Elwen soon heard footsteps on the porch behind them. Gandalf cut short his explanation and turned around, startled. Beorn gasped and picked up his axe when Dwalin and Balin stepped out into the yard.

"Dwalin," the Dwarf gestured to himself and then his brother. "Balin."

Balin gave a small, cheerful wave in greeting.

"I-I- must confess, uh," Gandalf stammered. "Several of our group are, in fact, Dwarves."

"Do you call two _several_?" Beorn asked.

"When you put it that way, n-no," Gandalf stuttered. "Yes, there could be more than two."

Elwen heard Bofur inside urge the next pair out the door. Gandalf sighed, exasperated. Oin and Gloin came scampering out next and bowed.

"And here are some more of our happy troop," Gandalf tried to sound cheerful.

"And do you call six a troop?" Beorn snapped. "What are you, a traveling circus?"

More movement from behind. Beorn snarled.

"Dori and Ori, at your service," said Dori nervously.

"I don't want your service."

"Absolutely understandable," said Gandalf, trying to placate the big man.

Apparently Bofur took this as another sign to send more of the Dwarves out into the yard. Elwen made a mental note to burn that stupid hat of his if Beorn didn't rip them all to pieces.

Fili and Kili were next. Both were stone faced, giving the Skin-changer a sharp, appraising look. Kili mouthed, "Are you alright?" to her, and she nodded. The struggle on his face was plain. He didn't like her being so close to danger, but didn't dare move closer in fear it would put her in further peril.

"Oh, Fili and Kili," said Gandalf. "I'd quite forgotten."

Elwen gave him a look. "You're so full of shit, your eyes should be brown."

Gandalf whacked her with his staff once more. She reminded herself to burn that thing along with Bofur's hat.

That was when the rest of the company, save one, filed out the door.

"Oh yes," Gandalf said, sounding defeated. "Nori, Bofur, Bifur, and Bombur."

Bofur snatched the rag away from Bombur that the latter had been using as a bib.

"Is that it?" Beorn asked lowly. Elwen could tell the large man was quite at the end of his patience. She could relate. "Are there anymore?"

Thorin stepped onto the porch and leaned against the house. His face was passive, but his eyes were sharp. He and Beorn stood there for an uncomfortably long time, sizing one another up.

Finally the Skin-changer blew out a long breath.

"I suppose you'll be wanting breakfast," he grunted.

* * *

The company soon found themselves gathered around a large wooden table that made each and every one of them seem much smaller than they were. Elwen had been sat snugly between Fili and Kili while Thorin stood at her back, arms crossed.

Any other time, Thorin knew she would absolutely refuse to be fussed over, but he would hear no argument. Even though Beorn had seemingly accepted their presence in his home, he could still change into a giant, snarling bear at any moment.

"So," Beorn said, pouring fresh milk into a rather large mug for Fili. "You are the one they call Oakenshield. Tell me…" he turned and put down the pitcher, then gave Thorin a penetrating look. "Why is Azog the Defiler hunting you?"

"You know of Azog?" Thorin said lowly, surprised. "How?"

"My people were the first to live in the mountains," Beorn replied. "Before the Orc's came down from the north. The Defiler killed most of my family. But some he enslaved."

Thorin looked at Beorn fully. He'd been so preoccupied with keeping an eye out for any indication of hostility, he had failed to notice the metal band of a manacle fastened around one of his wrists.

"Not for work, you understand," Beorn continued, his rough voice angry, "but for sport. Caging Skin-changers and torturing them seemed to amuse him."

He poured another mug full of milk for Ori. Despite having been put upon, Beorn had thus far been nothing but a gracious host.

"There are others like you?" Bilbo asked.

"Once," Beorn said heavily, "there were many."

"And now?"

"He's the last," Elwen said softly, sadly.

Thorin longed to reach out, to walk up behind her and wrap his arms around her middle. Elwen, more than any of them, understood the kind of loneliness Beorn must have felt, being the last of his kind. She had grown up alone in a place where she did not belong. Her strength and will to survive never ceased to amaze him.

"You need to reach the mountain before the last days of autumn?" Beorn asked, setting down his pitcher. He looked toward Elwen instead of Thorin, which the Dwarf found slightly puzzling.

"Before Durin's day, yes," Gandalf answered in her stead.

"You are running out of time." Beorn sat, his eyes darting toward the Wizard, then back to Elwen.

"Which is why we must go through Mirkwood," said Gandalf.

"A darkness lies upon that forest. Fell things creep beneath those trees. I would not venture there except in great need."

Beorn's eyes never left Elwen's. It was as if he were giving a warning that he wanted specifically for her to hear. Thorin tensed, his eyes narrowed.

"We will take the Elven Road," Gandalf said, finally drawing the Skin-changer's attention. "That path is still safe."

"Safe?" Beorn said incredulously. "The Wood-Elves of Mirkwood are not like their kin. They're less wise and more dangerous." He turned back to Elwen with a penetrating stare. "More dangerous for some of your company more than others."

Thorin saw Elwen stiffen. Kili reached out and put a protective hand on her arm and Fili scooted closer to her. Thorin moved closer to her, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Are you saying Elwen has something to fear from the Woodland realm?" Thorin asked sharply.

These Elves were his enemies, their King having been the one to turn his back on their people the day the dragon came. If he posed some sort of threat to Elwen…

"That," said Beorn, "depends on what it is the Lady fears. But it matters not."

"What do you mean?" Thorin asked.

He wanted to know what the Skin-changer could possibly know about Elwen's fears, but Beorn only replied to his latter statement.

"These lands are crawling with Orcs," he explained. "Their numbers are growing, and you are on foot. You will never reach the forest alive."

Elwen turned and his eyes locked on hers. They were both shocked, but the truth of Beorn's words were undeniable. They didn't have a chance.

Beorn stood, ducking to avoid hitting his head on one of the beams holding up the roof. He advanced on Thorin. Elwen turned in her seat, but Fili caught her by the waist, making sure she didn't do anything rash. Bless his nephew.

"I don't like Dwarves. They're greedy and blind," Beorn's eyes turned to Dwalin, who had just pushed a mouse away that had been crawling on his hand. Beorn picked up the small creature more gently than Thorin would have thought him able.

"Blind to the lives of those they deem lesser than their own."

A pregnant pause filled the room as Beorn approached Thorin, still holding the little mouse between his ham sized hands. Thorin didn't move, simply waited to see what the big man would do.

"But Orcs I hate more," he said, looking from the mouse to Thorin, a bit wild eyed. "What do you need?"

* * *

 **Authors Note:**

 **OH MY GOOOOOSSSSHHHHHH! The reception for chapter 16 was so amazing, I couldn't stand hold off posting 17 any longer! I've gotten more reviews for chapters 15 and 16 than most other chapters combined I think! Thank you all so much, it's simply made my week! Elwen still seems to be drawing in readers, which was my ultimate goal. We're already in love with our fellows; she was who I had to sell. So glad you all love reading about her as much as I love writing her!**

 **Okay, after I post chapter 18 sometime next week (or sooner if you all as super nicely) the update schedule will slow down drastically. I only have up to chapter 18 completed. From then on, I have to go back to the transcripts and start this thing from scratch. One thing you all might not know, but chapters 1-18 took me two years of on and off writing to complete. It's a SUPER arduous process. I have a lot of later chapters written, and chunks parts written, but I will need transcripts and the movies to complete them. Some whole chapters are going to be from the movies and be inserting Elwen in. So, I told you all this to tell you something simple: you're gonna have to be patient. I've got a lot going on until probably the first of the year.**

 **If you can be patient and hang in there with me, I promise you won't regret it. I will NOT give up on this story. I've got the ending planned out, about 56 chapters in the outline, and I won't abandon it. I promise, it will get done, I just may not be able to consistently update till after the start of 2018.**

 **You are all amazing and I really hope you enjoy this chapter! I think you'll like chapter 18 even more, though (hehehe).**

 **Pallysdeeks: I knew you were going to be heartbroken haha. I've thought about you a lot when writing Kili. I don't want to give away anything, but I promise to make it up to you in future chapters. Kili is incredibly important to me as a character, and I'm gonna do right by him. Eventually. Stick with me! Per usual, thank you so much for reviewing. You're truly a treasure!**

 **L'alchimiste de Castille: Your username is so pretty! Does it mean anything specific? Thank you! I'm so glad you enjoyed it! I think the story really picks up here in Part 2, and we're gonna get a lot more character development. Thorin, in my opinion, is a great and tragic character and I love playing around with him. I grew up reading Tolkien, but I love the way Richard Armitage portrayed him so much in the films. The films weren't perfect, but I appreciated the way the Sons of Durin were fleshed out. And yes, you'll be seeing much more Fili. I set the groundwork for him and Elwen to become a little closer when they had their talk before meeting the Stone Giants, and that will carry on. Hope you love this chapter too!**

 **SunnySides: Yaaaaaaaaaaaaay! So far I think I only have one reader who is Team Kili haha, poor thing. Hope you enjoy!**

 **Queen MariaTheresia: All the Dwarves have shite timing, to be honest hahaha! And woot, another tally mark for Thorin! I'm really glad you're enjoying it! I can't wait for you to see what I have in store for our budding couple!**

 **Alxxman: Most people are #ThorinandElwen4eva hahaha! Yes, Kili is a sad panda at the moment, but I've got plans for our youngest Son of Durin. As far as Tauriel, yes, I'll be featuring her. I honestly hated her inclusion in the movies, BUT only because of the way her character was used. I plan on utilizing her in a bit of a different way. I'm looking forward to seeing the reaction I get from people when it comes to the choices I'll make with her character. And how Elwen will react to being reunited with the fam…well…you'll just have to wait and see, won't you? (evil laughter) And yay! I was hoping people would find that bit funny! P.S. You are also the shite! Your reviews have me grinning from ear to ear. They are very validating and filling me with all kinds of writer confidence! And don't worry, I don't plan on torturing you too much longer by denying T &E. Maybe. Perhaps. (More evil laughter) **

**ValarenOfGondor: Yay! Welcome, and thanks so much for the read! I'm enjoying playing with the connection between Thorin and Elwen. I can't wait for you to see what I have planned! I'm glad to find a fellow Fili lover! Though the story doesn't completely focus on him, he's a very important character to me personally and to this story. I love Thorin, Fili, and Kili so so so much, I want to highlight them all. Fili will play a more prominent roll from here on out, and he gets a special spotlight on him in chapter 18! And yes, Elwen is not the girl you want to get caught peeking at. She will hit you with whatever is handy at the moment. She be but little, but she is fierce!**

 **Carre: Right?! I'd be swearing up a storm if I were trying to climb down from a great stone ledge! And yes, I'd hit him with a stick as well. And what does "jepp," translate to in English? I'm afraid I only know how to swear in Swedish haha! And yes, I want them to feel like a found family. I love the found family trope in stories! I'm glad that it's coming across the way I'm wanting! And yes, those situations are often complicated. I don't necessarily believe in soul mates or "Ones" but I am enjoying exploring the concept fictionally. Maybe I'll discover something about myself long the way. And you're not nagging! I love hearing your thoughts! I don't want to give anything away, so won't comment on whether or not she'll ever have children. Because for all you know, Elwen may not even survive the story! And yes, here is Beorn haha! I really enjoyed writing him! Thank you so much, I love your reviews so so so much! Hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

 **BisquitsandGravy: So far, Team Thorin is totally winning haha!**

 **Alright Lords and Lassies, I'm going to wrap this up. My Authors Notes are getting far longer the more people review, which is amazing and I love it! I love interacting and chatting with you all! Feel free to also PM me if you have specific questions. I don't want to spoil anything, but I might drop a hint or two privately (wink). I'd also just love to get to know some of you better! Please continue reviewing, I love love LOVE reading them! May your week be merry!**

 **Cheers- L**


	18. Chapter 18 The Claiming of Kin

**Chapter 18 The Claiming of Kin**

Everyone seemed able to relax once they knew Beorn wasn't going to shift into a bear and eat their faces. Despite his disdain for the Dwarves, Beorn turned out to be a gracious (if not a little gruff) host and insisted they not set out for Mirkwood until the following morning. It was already midmorning and they would lose the light before making it to the Elven road.

Elwen did her best to be a good guest. She insisted on helping with the dishes, so she and the Skin-changer went outside with a giant washtub and set to work.

If she thought Beorn's house was impressive, it paled in comparison to the outside. It was fenced in by a high hedge that looked very difficult to climb. She didn't blame him for wanting the extra security, not after the story of the fate of his people.

What must it feel like to know you are the last of your kind? That there was no one else in the land who shared your history? She looked at him, his thick arms down in the tub up to the elbows and his heavy brow furrowed. How lonely he must find himself at times. Elwen knew a little bit about not having a family, about loneliness.

"It is strange for an Elf to be traveling with such…" Beorn cut her a suspicious glance, "diverse company."

"Half-Elf," she reminded him while scrubbing a plate.

"Another strangeness," he countered. "It is rare for Elves to mate with men."

"So I've been told."

Beorn was, by nature of his circumstance, a suspicious being. She knew he wasn't going to let up until she told him something of herself, at least.

"My mother was human, and she's dead. My father is apparently some Grey Elf with a bad attitude who gave me away when I was a baby. I was raised in Rivendell until I was five. I was then sent away, somewhere far, allegedly for my own good."

It was still difficult for Elwen to believe, even as she spoke. Elves appearances change, but slowly, and they did eventually stop aging altogether. When Elwen was sent away, she had already been tutored in Rivendell for five years, making her quite advanced. But to the world she'd grown up in, she'd appeared no older than three. The absence of magic had allowed her to age as the years went by, but now that she was back in Middle-earth? She could look twenty years old for a long, long time. _Twenty five_ , she corrected herself. _I'm actually twenty-five._

"I lived for years thinking I was an orphan. It wasn't easy," she finished quietly, concentrating very hard on the dish she was scrubbing.

"No," said Beorn. "Living without kin is not easy." He looked at Elwen then, eyebrows raised in surprise. "Let me see your eyes, girl."

Elwen's eyes widened from surprise, not the request. He leaned in closely, then jerked away.

"Your father is Sinda, you say?" he asked, turning back to the dishes. Elwen grunted an affirmative. After a few moments of silent washing, Beorn spoke again. "In the forest, you may find some answers. But…" he paused, looking at her. "The Elves of the Woodland Realm are very different than those you have previously encountered. Be wary of them."

Beorn stood and wiped his hands with a dish towel. He offered it to her, then helped her off the soft, cool grass.

"Come," he said. "I will show you the horses."

* * *

The rest of the afternoon was spent lazily for most of the company. Many of the Dwarves napped or made themselves useful around the property. Thorin spent most of his time with Balin, Dwalin, and Gandalf discussing the road ahead. So, Elwen split her time between getting to know Beorn and the land he loved so well, and spending time training with her bow with Kili.

Kili gave a great cheer when she hit the target they'd built from hay for the tenth time. It wasn't dead center each time, but close.

"I like swords and knives better," Elwen said, rolling her shoulders to loosen the muscles. Her back still stung from the Goblin's chains, so she asked Kili for a moment's respite.

"We really don't need to train together anymore," said Kili. "There's nothing more I can teach you."

"Nonsense," she replied, elbowing him in the side.

The pair climbed atop one of the hay stacked in blocks and watched as the sun began to sink lower in the sky.

"Do you miss the place you came from?" Kili asked.

Elwen started. She found it incredible that she'd hardly thought about the place she'd once called home since arriving in Middle-earth.

"I didn't exactly have a happy childhood," she said honestly. "This feels more like a place I could belong than that place ever did."

Kili reached out and squeezed her hand. "I'm sorry you had to go through that alone."

"At least I'm not alone anymore," she smiled. "That's all that matters."

She looked down at their hands. Kili's hands were only slightly smaller than Thorin's, but still strong and calloused from swinging swords and shooting arrows most of his life. He held her hand as if it were made of glass, and she wondered how someone so strong could be so gentle. _He's more like Thorin than he knows._

This thought made her wince. She squeezed his hand, hoping he would feel her gratitude, and pulled away.

Kili turned to her and looked like he was about to say something, but was interrupted by Fili calling their names.

"Come swimming!" he called, jogging up to their perch. "There's a pond on the other side of the property. Beorn said it was alright. Thorin and Balin are still busy, but the rest of the lads are already there."

The Dwarves had no problem jumping into the fountains in Rivendell butt naked and without permission, but not even these rock-heads were stupid enough to use anything of Beorn's without asking first.

Elwen hesitated. "Are you all gonna be naked again?"

"We'll probably have our tops off so we can scrub our shirts," Fili laughed, "but we'll be gentleman and keep our trousers on."

The pond turned out to actually be a natural hot spring. Elwen pulled off her boots and socks and stepped into the warm water. She didn't care that her clothes would be sloshy; it was worth it to get them clean. She set to scrubbing her socks against a nearby rock and doing her best not to get splashed or dunked.

Swimming with the Dwarves was, so far, the best memory Elwen had of their journey. It was the first time everyone felt even halfway safe enough to relax and have unguarded fun. There was a lot of wrestling, mostly between herself, Fili, and Kili, and a lot of inappropriate jokes about whether or not certain parties had peed in the water, which absolutely scandalized Bilbo.

She found herself forcing her eyes away from a shirtless Kili. He had chiseled muscles in all the right places, and she found her face growing hot every time she glimpsed him.

Aside from that, Elwen let her guard down and let herself laugh and swim and feel free. She marveled at how normal it all felt, as if she were fulfilling her destiny simply by being with this merry band of folk. By loving them. Because she did; she loved these stubborn, sweet, sometimes dim Dwarves, and she was fairly sure they loved her back.

Slowly the hot spring began to empty as the night wore on and the scent of food began wafting from the house. Elwen decided to stay outside and lay on the grass for a little while, not wanting to drag her soggy self into Beorn's clean kitchen.

She laid down on the fluffy lawn and turned her eyes skyward. She felt herself becoming transfixed with the heavenly bodies once more. The sky had never captured her in such a way in the place that she had come from. Maybe it was because there, the sky had always been competing with electric lights and pollution. She truly had never seen a sky so pure, but she knew it was more than that. Somehow here in Middle-earth, the stars felt more like a path that promised to lead her home if she could only learn how to follow.

Elwen wasn't sure how long she'd laid there before the sound of someone clearing their throat drew her attention back to the earth and the cool grass beneath her. She blinked and found Thorin standing over her, amusement dancing on his usually stern features.

"Supper is ready," he said, smiling. "Why are you laying on the ground?"

She propped herself up on her elbows and smiled. "Just trying to dry off a little before going inside."

Thorin sat down in the grass next to her. She scooted closer to him, happy for his warmth. He smiled and put an arm around her shoulder, rubbing her arms to help drive the chill from her bones.

"Do you feel better now that you're clean?" he asked. "Well, _cleaner_ , at least."

No doubt he was remembering the episode at the creek. How badly the blood had bothered her. The hot spring had done the trick; her clothes were probably still filthy, but at least they weren't crusty with dried blood anymore.

"Much," she assured him. He smiled.

Elwen's heart gave a little jerk. _There is no sight in this world or any other that I love more than his smile_.

Thorin stood and held out a hand, hauling her up. His arms slid around her waist and pulled her tightly to his chest. She grasped the front of his shirt, flushed.

"I don't want to get you wet," she whispered, her mouth suddenly having gone quite dry.

"I don't mind," he said lowly, brushing aside the hair covering her forehead, then laughing when they slid right back into place. "I've wanted to finish our conversation from earlier."

Elwen nodded slowly. "I'd like that," she said. "Thorin, I-"

"Thorin, did you find her?" a voice called out from the direction of Beorn's house. Dwalin. "We're all starving!"

"Damn that bald, tattooed old basta-"

"We're coming!" Thorin called, muffling his laughter. He placed a quick kiss on Elwen's forehead. "We _will_ finish this conversation. Soon."

Elwen smiled at his promise. Thorin took her hand and laced his large fingers with her small, dainty ones and lead them back to the house. They parted when they saw Dwalin's imposing figure standing in the doorway, his thick arms crossed across his chest.

"Beorn wouldn't hear of our eating before the lady returned," Dwalin said crossly.

Elwen swatted Thorin on the arm. "Why didn't you say?"

Thorin's reply was a wicked grin, and Dwalin rolled his eyes, muttering something about love sick pups, the lot of them.

The company gathered around Beorn's long, thick wooden table and ate their fill. Elwen enjoyed the moment, watching her companions laugh, toss food at one another, and tell stories about their lives before they'd come on such a grand adventure. Even the Skin-changer cracked a smile every now and then.

She tried to concentrate on having a good time with her friends while she could, but knew they were leaving at first light with no idea what laid ahead of them in Mirkwood. As the night went on, Elwen's uneasiness began to grow, no matter how many times she told herself to stop worrying.

Both Beorn and Elrond had told her that she might find answers to her questions within the Woodland Realm. Did that mean her father was there? She couldn't decide if that was what she wanted. Was her father part of the court that had denied King Thror aid when the dragon came? If so, she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

Elwen looked at Thorin, who sat across the table laughing at something Bofur said. Her stomach clenched, remembering the way he'd looked at her only a little while ago at the hot spring. He cared for her; she didn't doubt that anymore. But would he still, if her family were among those who had wronged him? He'd forgiven her heritage before, but some hatreds ran deeper than even love.

"Alright, Elwen?" Kili asked quietly. She was nestled, as usual, between he and Fili, and her mood had not gone unnoticed. "You've hardly touched your dessert!"

Elwen picked up a piece of sweet bread drizzled with honey and ate a mouthful. She smiled, knowing her cheeks were bulging, and was rewarded with an appreciative laugh from the company. Kili, ever attentive to her emotions, laughed as well, but did not look convinced. She shrugged and he patted her hand affectionately under the table before turning back to his food. He understood her unwillingness to talk in front of everyone. He really was a good friend.

"I think you're going to enjoy life in Erebor, Elwen," said Fili cheerfully.

"Aye," Bofur seconded. "She fits right in with us, sorry lot that we are."

Elwen sucked in a breath of surprise and promptly began choking on her bite of bread. Fili slapped her hard on the back.

"The winters will be colder than she's used to, I suspect," Balin cautioned.

"That's alright," laughed Kili. "We'll wrap her in so much fur that we'll have to roll her to the throne room!"

Elwen finally gained control of her voice, though it came out in a strangled gasp.

"You want me to live in Erebor?" she asked. Her voice was thick with emotion, and she suddenly found herself blinking back tears.

"Of course we do," Fili said, putting an arm around her shoulder. He looked at his uncle. "You haven't asked her yet?"

Thorin stammered, caught off guard. "I didn't want to presume-"

"What's to presume?" Bofur asked. "She's one of us. Why wouldn't she stay?"

All of the Dwarves nodded in agreement. Bilbo looked as confused as she felt, but Gandalf was grinning, his eyes twinkling conspiratorially.

"But back in Rivendell, Elrond told her she might find something of her family in Mirkwood," Bilbo pointed out. "Don't you think she'll want to find her father when this is all over?"

"Well, of course she will," Kili replied as if that were obvious. "And we'll help her look, once we've taken Erebor back." He said it as if that had been the plan all along, despite her never having asked them for help on that end.

Elwen still couldn't speak. She kept opening her mouth and closing it again. Thorin seemed to notice her floundering.

"You don't have to decide tonight," he said. "Take what time you need." He then turned to Balin, discussing preparations for their continuing journey, and the conversations turned to other more practical things.

Elwen was grateful for the distraction. She spent the rest of supper chewing, but tasting nothing. Live in Erebor? She couldn't lie and say she'd never entertained the thought. She had no idea what she was supposed to do once this journey was at its end. The Dwarves assumed she'd want to continue searching for her family if they found nothing as they passed through Mirkwood, but the more hints she gathered about the Woodland realm, the less she wanted to actually find them.

Truth was, the longer she stayed with the Dwarves of Erebor, the more and more she felt like she'd already found the family she'd longed for her entire life. Maybe they weren't her blood, but that wasn't what was important. The folk surrounding this table, Gandalf and Bilbo included, had cared for her, protected her, and listened to her when she needed them. They had stood between her and the dangers of the world, and picked her back up when she'd fallen. Isn't that what family does?

Elwen had to swallow back tears. Yes, she wanted to go to live in Erebor. The thought of leaving the Dwarves at the end of such a quest seemed more impossible than the quest itself.

She cut a look at Thorin and found he was already looking at her. When she caught his eyes, he smiled so warmly at her that she felt the heat in her chest. _I want to stay with him, most of all_ , she thought.

"Elwen, can I talk to you for a moment?" Fili asked suddenly, drawing her attention away from the brilliance of his uncle's smile. "Outside?"

Elwen raised an eyebrow. If she didn't know the mustachioed Dwarf better, she'd say he was nervous. He was standing beside her, one hand fiddling with one of the many knives hanging from his belt.

Elwen rose from her chair and followed Fili onto Beorn's back porch.

The yard seemed so different after dark. Most of the animals were peaceful and dreaming, and the only sound that could be heard was the various insects singing their night songs.

"Everything alright?" Elwen asked, motioning to Fili's hand that kept sheathing and unsheathing a knife. "You're not here to propose marriage are you?"

She was only teasing, but she couldn't think of what else might have the young Dwarf so on edge.

Fili let out a bark of laughter and his shoulders relaxed slightly.

"Heaven's no," he said, still chuckling. "I'd not only have to fight my brother for you, but my uncle as well, I reckon. Besides," he winked. "You'd eat me alive."

That was fair enough

"Then what's going on?" she asked, folding her arms and giving him a look.

"I've never done this before…" he said hesitantly. She scowled.

"Sounding more and more like a proposal, Fili."

"Well," he said, "in a manner of speaking, it is a proposal. Just not for marriage."

This peaked her curiosity.

"I meant what I said about you coming to live in Erebor once this dragon business is taken care of," Fili began. "I know you've got to find out more about your family, but maybe someday you might call Erebor home."

Elwen smiled, genuinely touched. She reached out and tugged on his braided mustache lightly.

"Whether I find my blood relatives or not," she said, her words a vow from her heart, "wherever you, Kili, and Thorin are _is_ my home. You and the rest of this rowdy bunch." She looked down at her feet, suddenly shy. "You all are the only family I've ever known. I'm not sure I need anything more than what I've already found, and it means the world to me that I'm wanted in the mountain."

She glanced back up at Fili who loosed a breath, suddenly looking very relieved.

"I'm glad you said that," he grinned. "We've all felt as though you were one of us for some time now, as you've heard tonight, and I've had the idea of making that a bit more…official. Considering how things are looking or you and Thorin, well…"

"But it's already official," she said, confused. "I signed the contract. I'm part of the company."

"That's not what I mean," he replied. "I want to claim Kin's Rights for you, Elwen. I want to adopt you into my household."

Elwen's mouth flopped open. She blinked a few times.

"You…can…what?"

Fili laughed heartily. "If I'd know this was all it took to shut you up, I'd have suggested this to Thorin ages ago!"

Elwen punched him in the chest, then paused when she realized what he'd said.

"Thorin knew about this?"

Fili nodded. "I asked him what he thought about it today while you were with Beorn. He approves, by the way."

Elwen's eyes widened. "Why don't you explain to me exactly what this Kin's Right means?"

"A Dwarf can adopt someone into their family if that person has no kin to speak against it. Since I'm of age, you will be welcomed in the mountain as part of my household. If I weren't, it would have to be my mother or Thorin claiming Kin's Rights."

"But, um," she stammered. "Isn't that a bit…considering…I mean with Thorin and Kili, I…"

"None of that will interfere," Fili said, shrugging. "It's basically me proclaiming that you're under my protection while in the mountain. Anyone who would take issue with you being there would be dealt with by me." He smiled. "I already see you as a sister. This is simply making it formal."

"And both Thorin _and_ Kili approve?" she asked hesitantly.

"Oh, absolutely. It gives you more protection, though you'll have plenty of it from the others, and simply by being who you are to the King, but," he smiled slyly, "having the crowned Prince accept you as kin will go a long way in the eyes of our people. It will be seen as an endorsement of your marriage."

If Elwen had been taking a drink right at that moment, she would have spit it all over the front of Fili's tunic.

"Marriage?" she croaked. "What marriage?"

Fili gave her a look. "A Dwarf doesn't court unless he means to wed, Elwen. You and Thorin-"

"He hasn't proposed!" she said quickly. "Or asked to court me. Nothing like that."

"Oh, he will," Fili said. "If he doesn't, I'll be honor bound to challenge him to a dual for leading you on."

Elwen smiled nervously and reached for his hand.

"You're already sounding like an overprotective brother."

Fili squeezed her hand, his eyes dancing with excitement.

"Does this mean you accept?"

"Of course!" she exclaimed, as if there was any doubt that she would. "I've come to see you as a brother as well, and I would be honored to be among your kin. To belong to a real family…" Elwen didn't realize she was shedding tears until Fili dashed them away, pulling her into his arms for a strong hug.

She gripped his shirt and buried her face in his chest. There was a rightness to all of this, as if her becoming Fili's kin was another piece of the puzzle falling into place. She felt safe there, the way she'd always imagined she would feel in the embrace of a brother. The way she always felt safe, nestled right between him and Kili.

She pulled back, wiping her eyes. She swallowed. If she and Fili were family now, then they needed to talk about the other person they both cared for deeply.

"If Thorin proposes-"

"He will," Fili said confidently.

"-what about Kili?"

Fili flinched, his brow furrowing. She swallowed again.

"I told you after we left Rivendell that I was confused about how I felt about Kili…"

"Are you still confused?" he asked softly, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I'll support whatever decision you make, Elwen. You have to know that."

"But Kili's your brother," she said. "Like, your _actual_ brother. I know you don't want to see him hurt, and…neither do I."

Fili was silent for a moment. The both stood there, thinking about Kili, both wanting to protect him from whatever pain her connection to Thorin might cause him, but neither knowing how.

"I don't know very much about the matters of the heart," Fili admitted. "I'm not sure if I have a One out there in the world somewhere, waiting for me. If I don't, I'll be alright with it. And as little as I know about having a One, I know even less about being an Elf."

"Half-elf," she corrected automatically. Fili smirked.

"Half-elf," he clarified. "I don't think humans have One's, not like we do. I think, perhaps, your hearts are more bendable than ours are. Not that you don't feel love as strongly as we do, but maybe you're able to feel more of it at once, I don't know. I think you care for both Thorin and Kili, and maybe your heart calls to both of them for very different reasons." Fili gave her a meaningful look. "But I also think we both know who your heart calls to the loudest. We all saw it from the moment you two laid eyes on each other, all anger and indignation. What you have with Thorin is different from what you have with Kili. Not less, but different, and the difference is what matters."

Elwen once again felt tears fill her eyes. She had never dreamed that her feelings for either Dwarf would ultimately come down to a choice. There had been too much going on to consider what might happen upon journeys end. But on the other side of Mirkwood lay Erebor, the Lonely Mountain. If they were successful in retrieving the Arkenstone, then the other Dwarf Kingdoms would ban together to expel the dragon and reclaim the mountain. And if Fili was right, that meant perhaps considering a future with Thorin.

And it was Thorin. It had always been Thorin.

"Kili knows how you feel about our uncle," Fili said softly. "He just wants to be a part of your life anyway he can. He's over the moon about this idea, and so am I. No matter what happens."

Elwen wished she had more words to say what she felt. She wished she could explain how torn she felt, and how thankful she was to be so loved. She settled for wrapping her arms around Fili's neck and kissing him on the cheek.

"Thank you, brother," she whispered.

Fili squeezed her back fiercely, and when he pulled back, Elwen could swear she saw him sneakily wiping away a tear of his own.

They walked back into Beorn's house, his arm slung casually over her shoulder, a grin splitting his handsome face.

"I would like to announce that Elwen has accepted my offer of Kin's Right," Fili said imperiously. "That means you all best be on your best behavior. No more naked dips in fountains in front of my sister's delicate eyes."

Elwen elbowed him playfully.

The Dwarves cheered and clapped and Elwen's face began to hurt from so much smiling. Gandalf's eyes were twinkling as he explained to a very confused Bilbo what all of this meant.

All of the Dwarves were especially excited because this meant Elwen was definitely staying at Erebor with all of them once everything was said and done. Bombur told her he would teach her all about cooking sweets, and Ori went on and on about the library. Bofur was going to teach her toy-making, to which Dwalin scoffed and said she was a born warrior. She'd never be satisfied if she didn't have steel in her hands.

Kili and Fili were both going to arrange quarters for her near theirs so she'd always be close. What fun they were going to have, exploring the mountain for the first time together! No doubt they would get into no end of trouble. Elwen couldn't wait.

Everyone had something to add to the conversation except for Thorin. He stood off to the side, smiling as his men crowded around her. Their eyes met over the crowd and she smiled. _Yes, I'm going to stay_ , she thought. _I'm going to stay with you._

* * *

It was a while before Elwen was able to extract herself from the group. Beorn had pulled out a keg of ale, and the conversation had quickly deteriorated. Thorin had a sneaking suspicion the Skin-changer had seen Elwen's growing fatigue and done this on purpose. Beorn seemed to have taken a shine to her as well, which was no surprise. She seemed to charm people wherever she went. It wouldn't surprise him if she walked right into Erebor and bullied Smaug into leaving.

By some silent agreement, Elwen and Thorin both made their way over to the fireplace. They sat in front of the hearth, letting the flames warm their faces. She was leaning against his shoulder, staring into the flames as if they held all the answers she had ever sought.

He knew she was happy to be part of Fili's household and to be staying in the mountain when it was won, but that did not erase her reasons for coming on the journey in the first place.

"Are you anxious?" Thorin asked. She looked at him and blinked confusedly. "About going into Mirkwood."

Elwen shrugged. "We might get through the forest without seeing a single Elf. That's what you're hoping for, right?"

"I admit," Thorin hesitated a moment, "that I'd like to get through the forest as quickly as possible."

"But after this quest is finished-"

"I will personally go back to Mirkwood with you to find answers. I swear it."

Thorin had given this quite a bit of thought. He knew how he felt about Elwen, and he was fairly sure she returned his affections. Dwarves did not court unless they intended to be married, and Thorin knew he could not let his intentions go unknown much longer. He thought about pulling her away after supper, but had felt it important for Fili to make his offer first. And now, with the way she was staring at the fire…no, now was not the time.

"You'll have a kingdom to rebuild, Thorin," she said, smiling sweetly. "There won't be time for that."

"I will make time," he said determinedly. "If it wasn't for you, we would never have gotten this far."

Elwen looked at him then as if it were with new eyes. The flames flickered in the hearth, sending shadows dancing across their skin. She looked as if she was glowing from the inside out next to the firelight. Before he could stop himself, Thorin reached out and ran a finger through her hair. _I could spend the next hundred years with her, and I would never tire of this_ , he thought, knowing down deep in his bones that it was true.

No one had ever been able to adequately describe to him what it felt like when a Dwarf man finds his One. Thorin had always thought it was an instantaneous experience. He thought that their eyes would meet, someone would smile, and he would just _know_. That hadn't exactly been his experience with Elwen.

"What are you smiling at?" she asked, but she was also smiling.

"I was thinking about the first time we met," he replied.

Elwen laughed, her voice like a tinkling bell.

"I bet you never thought we'd end up here, did you?" she said, lifting her chin toward the fire. "Sitting here, cozy and not trying to kill each other."

He chuckled. He looked into her eyes and realized that maybe he hadn't immediately known she was the one he was meant to spend his life with, but that didn't mean he had been completely ignorant of what her presence on their journey could mean.

"I knew from the moment it was decided that you would join the company that you would change my life, one way or another." He smiled ruefully. "I'll admit, I thought at the time that it might be you getting me killed." She nudge him with her foot, but laughed. "Now I see it for what it was. Destiny."

"I've never been a big believer in destiny," Elwen said. "Until I met you all, that is. Now I'm absolutely positive there is some force at work in our lives that I can't quite understand, and that right here next to you is exactly where I'm supposed to be."

Thorin wanted so much to pull her near and kiss her soundly, kiss her until they were both breathless and dizzy and drunk on one another. Just as he was about to lean toward her, a log cracked, causing Thorin and Elwen to jump, then laugh at their foolishness.

"I should get some sleep," Elwen said with a sigh. "Big day tomorrow, after all."

They stood, both unsure of how they were supposed to part after everything that had passed between them. Thorin reached out for her hand and brushed his lips over her knuckles.

"Goodnight," she whispered.

"Sleep well," he said lowly.

Elwen made her way across the room to where Kili and Fili had made themselves comfortable. She gave Thorin a nervous little wave, a gesture so unlike her, and laid down between his nephews. He watched her cuddle into Fili's back, her new brother, while Kili nestled closely to her, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close.

Thorin bedded down close to the fire, wishing it were his arms wrapped around Elwen's slight frame. But soon he would make his intentions known to the company.

Someday, Thorin very much intended to make Elwen his Queen.

* * *

 **Authors Note: Hello Lords and Lassies! Here we are, Chapter 18! Now remember, this is as far as I've written up completely. From now on, updates may be a bit slower. But I do promise you all that I WILL finish this story. Just be patient with me.**

 **The Kin's Rights bit is completely made up by me. I doubt this is a thing in the Tolkien-verse.**

 **Thank you to all of you who favorited, followed, and reviewed! I am much obliged for the support. It definitely spurns me on to write more!**

 **Pallysdeeks: You are going to HATE me in the coming chapters…I mean, really REALLY hate me haha. You've been warned.**

 **L'alchimiste de Castille: It's quite the lovely name! And I hope it won't take me till 2018 to update but hard to say. I've got a lot going on between now and then, but I WILL be working on this! Glad you enjoyed the chapter!**

 **Carre: Thanks! I'll remember that haha. 2. Thank you! I tried to go for the comedy aspect. 3. Yes. Elwen doesn't want to be scuffed boots first, haha. 4. Thank you! Hope you like this one!**

 **Again, thank you for all the reviews! Please continue to leave love in form of words, it really gives me inspiration to write. I love hearing your responses to scenes, and theories on how you think (hope) the story will go.**

 **Cheers- L**


	19. Chapter 19 Mirkwood Forest

**Chapter 19 Mirkwood Forest**

"You will leave my ponies before you enter the forest," Beorn said roughly.

"You have my word."

Gandalf and Beorn were standing just inside the tree line, looking down at the company as they prepared the ponies. Gandalf's far seeing eyes fell on Elwen in time to see her lean over and kiss the nose of her beast of burden. He smiled slightly.

When Gandalf looked to Beorn, he saw the Skin-changer's eyes were on her as well.

"You know who her father is, of course," Beorn gave the Wizard a probing stare.

"I was informed by Lord Elrond and the Lady Galadriel, yes," answered Gandalf carefully. He'd had suspicions of his own, of course, but he didn't tell Beorn that.

"I do not understand exactly what the bond is between the girl and these Dwarves, but it will be tested in the Woodland Realm," Beorn shook his large head. "I fear for her."

"You've grown fond of her, I see," Gandalf eyed the large man, chuckling. "She has that effect on people."

"She is not like other humans or Elves that I have come across," he said. "She did not build strength by climbing over those weaker than herself. She is…different from what I would expect, considering her parentage. Perhaps she is more like her mother, who I know little of."

Gandalf nodded sagely.

Elwen Greenleaf _was_ different. Perhaps it was the age she in which she was brought up in, so far away from the halls of her father and the influence and power he wielded. Or maybe it was simply who she was. Had she been raised in Middle-earth, taking her rightful place in her father's realm, would she still be the same person? There was no way to know for sure, though Gandalf also had his suspicions about this as well.

Gandalf heard birds fluttering in the distance. He narrowed his eyes.

"We're being watched," he said, peering into the dense wood around them.

"Yes," Beorn replied, also scanning the forest. "The Orcs will not give up. They will hunt the Dwarves until they see them destroyed."

"Why now?" Gandalf wondered aloud angrily. "What has made the Defiler crawl from his hole?"

"There is an alliance between the Orcs of Moria and the sorcerer in Dol Guldur."

This startled Gandalf.

"You're sure of this?"

"Packs have been seen gathering there," Beorn replied. "Each day more and more come."

"What do you know of this sorcerer?" Gandalf asked, concerned. "The one they call the Necromancer?"

"I know he is not what he seems. Fell things are drawn to his power." Beorn fixed Gandalf with a wild look. "Azog pays homage to him."

Gandalf couldn't shake the feeling that something far more sinister than a human Necromancer was taking root in Dol Guldur. He recalled a sword that should not have been recovered, given to him by Radagast the Brown before they entered Rivendell. That, along with the Lady's fearful look upon laying eyes upon it…

"Gandalf!" Thorin called to the Wizard. "Time is wasting."

Gandalf started for the company when Beorn spoke.

"There is more," Beorn added. Gandalf paused, looking over his shoulder. "Not long past, word spread that the dead had been seen walking near the high fells of Rhudaur."

Gandalf felt a chill sweep over him. "The dead?"

Beorn gave him a look. "Is it true? Are there tombs in those mountains?"

Gandalf felt his blood run cold, recalling the mountains Beorn spoke of. When Angmar fell, the men of the north took his body and all that he possessed, and sealed it in the high fells of Rhudaur. Deep within the rock, they buried him in a tomb so dark, it would never come to life.

"Yes," Gandalf said heavily. "There are tombs there."

"I remember a time when a great evil ruled these lands," said Beorn. "One powerful enough to raise the dead. If that enemy has returned to Middle-earth, I would have you tell me."

"Saruman the White says it's not possible. The enemy was destroyed and will never return."

"And what does Gandalf the Grey say?"

The Wizard shook his head. He wasn't sure what Gandalf the Grey thought exactly, and so he said nothing.

A bird close by crowed loudly, echoing through the woods.

"Go now, while you still have the light." A howl pierced the silence. "Your hunters are not far behind."

As Gandalf made his way toward the company, he realized that the only way to know for sure whether there was truth to Beorn's words was to see for himself. He knew this meant leaving the company for an unknown period of time, but there was no helping it. He could only hope that they would make it through the forest unscathed, and that he would make it to the mountain.

* * *

The company road hard across the hills and plains between Beorn's home and Mirkwood. Elwen was sad to leave the Skin-changer, not knowing if she would ever lay eyes on him or his great, tall hedges ever again. He had been gruff at first, but watching him lay gentle hands upon the creatures he cared for had warmed her heart to him greatly. She very much hoped they would meet again one day.

The forest loomed ahead of them, the trees forming a wall of dead, twisted trunks and shadow. There was a darkness hanging over the woods like a mist, as Beorn had said. Elwen wasn't sure what the others saw when they gazed into the depth of the tree line, but she saw death and decay all around.

Elwen's pony came to an almost screeching halt several paces before the tree line. She didn't think it was a good sign, the ponies' aversion to the forest.

Gandalf dismounted.

"The Elven Gate," he said lowly.

The Elven Gate wasn't so much a gate as it was a grand, elaborate wooden archway. She hopped off her pony and stepped toward the structure for a better look. The wood was light and so intricately carved that she had to wonder if it were done by magic.

"Here lies our path through Mirkwood," announced the Wizard, turning back toward the company.

Elwen wasn't sure how she was supposed to feel. Soon she would be stepping over the threshold and into the territory of the Woodland Realm. Both Lord Elrond and Beorn told her this would be where she would find the answers she was seeking. But something told her nothing she would find in this forest would be to her, or the company's, benefit. _There is something wrong with these trees_ , she thought. _Something has tainted this place. We should not be here._

"No sign of the Orcs," Dwalin said. "We have luck on our side."

Elwen looked at Gandalf, who was squinting at something in the distance. She looked up to see Beorn in his great bear form, keeping an eye on them from a distance ridge. She waved despite knowing he couldn't wave back.

"Set the ponies loose," Gandalf commanded. "Let them return to their Master."

The Dwarves and Bilbo all dismounted and began the task of removing their burdens from the ponies. Bilbo took a few hesitant steps toward the Elven Gate.

"This forest feels…sick," said the Hobbit heavily. "As if a disease lies upon it. Is there no way around?"

"Not unless we go two hundred miles north," replied Gandalf unhappily, "or twice that distance south."

Bilbo nodded, but looked as uncomfortable as Elwen felt. Did none of the others feel what they felt? Elves and Hobbits alike were very much attached to the nature around them in ways that Dwarves did not seem to be. Had they been in a cave with some vile spell cast upon it, would their other companions be able to feel it more readily? She didn't know. But she desperately wished they did not have to brave these trees. But Gandalf was right. What other choice did they have, if they were to reach the mountain by Durin's Day?

Elwen turned to say as much to Bilbo but was stopped short. She watched as he reached into his front pocket, as if searching for something hidden there. His face was screwed up in concentration, as if he were hearing a voice no one else could. When he pulled his hand from his pocket ever so slightly, she saw something shiny slip between his fingers. With her Elf ears, Elwen could have sworn she heard some kind of whispering coming from the object, but surely she was mistaken. Where on earth could Bilbo have come across an artifact such as that? And yet…

As suddenly as the look came upon him, Bilbo's face cleared and he dropped whatever object he was holding back into his pocket. The whispering ceased, and Elwen felt a weight lift off her that she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

The company retrieved their belongings from their ponies before setting them loose. Elwen watched as they ran across the fields back toward home as fast as their legs could carry them. For a brief moment, she wished she were joining them.

Nori was working on unburdening Gandalf's beasts when he called out, "Not my horse. I need it."

"You're not leaving us?" Bilbo asked, sounded half afraid and half exasperated.

"I would not do this unless I had," replied Gandalf. He looked at Thorin, then turned to a dejected Bilbo.

"You've changed, Bilbo Baggins. You're not the same Hobbit as the one who left the Shire." Gandalf looked down at his small friend proudly. Bilbo, in turn, looked sheepish.

"I was going to tell you," Bilbo began. "I…found something in the Goblin tunnels."

Elwen eyed him closely when Gandalf asked what he'd found. Bilbo stays silent for several heartbeats, a bit too long, putting his hand in his pocket once more.

"My courage," he finally replied, and took his hand from the pocket once more.

"Good. Well, that's good," said Gandalf, then added darkly, "You'll need it."

Bilbo's grin slipped slightly.

"Elwen," Gandalf said, gripping her arm and pulling her to the side. Thorin eyed the pair as they walked out of earshot. "I must warn you to be careful in the forest. The Wood Elves, they are…well, it is as Beorn said. They are not like Elrond and his folk."

"What is it you and Beorn are afraid I'll find in there?" she asked, giving Gandalf a hard look.

The Wizard looked at her in kind, then sighed. "The answers," he replied heavily. "Though I fear you will not like what you find."

For a brief moment, Elwen nearly begged the Wizard to stay. Whatever she was to face in Mirkwood, she did not want to face it without his council. But, as per usual with her, pride won out. She took a deep breath and smiled as assuredly as she knew how.

"I'll be fine, Gandalf," she said, patting his arm. "I'm sure there won't be any trouble. We'll just follow the path and hopefully we won't even see any Elves."

"Yes, yes," he said, but the troubled look on his face did not lift. "Be safe, my dear." He patted her cheek fondly before turning to his horse.

"I'll be waiting for you at the overlook, before the slopes of Erebor," Gandalf said, now speaking to the rest of the company. "Keep the map and key safe." He gave Thorin a hard look. "Do not enter that mountain without me."

It had begun to lightly rain, dampening their clothes and hair. Definitely seemed like a good sign before going into a scary, probably haunted forest. Yeah, this was gonna' turn out just fine.

"This is not the Greenwood of old," he cautioned, readying his horse. "There is a stream in the woods that carries a dark enchantment. Do not touch the water. Cross only by the stone bridge," he warned. "The very air of the forest is heavy with illusion. It will seek to enter your mind and lead you astray." Gandalf climbed onto his horse. "Listen to Elwen, for the enchantments may not affect her in the same ways it might you others."

"Lead us astray?" Bilbo looked at Elwen. "What does that mean?"

She shrugged. If Elwen had a bad feeling about entering the forest before, that feeling had tripled in the amount of time Gandalf had been speaking. He shouldn't be leaving. Something wasn't right.

"You must stay on the path; do not leave it. If you do, you will never find it again." Gandalf wheeled his horse around and began to ride away. "No matter what may come, stay on the path!" he yelled in a final warning, and then was gone.

"Come on," Thorin said. "We must reach the mountain before the sun sets on Durin's Day."

"Durin's Day?" Bilbo muttered lowly, as if this should not be their greatest concern at the moment. Elwen couldn't help but agree.

"Let's go," said Dwalin, urging the Hobbit on

"This is our one chance to find the hidden door," Thorin called.

The Dwarves entered the forest, but Elwen hesitated at the gate. When Kili noticed she wasn't with them, he turned back.

"Elwen," he said, jogging up to her. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know…I can't explain it," she said, her voice small. She looked into his face pleadingly. "Something is _wrong_ here, Kili. Can you not feel it?"

Kili looked over his shoulder and eyed the forest shrewdly. "Something feels…off," he admitted. "But what choice do we have? We must reach the mountain in time." Kili held out his hand and smiled. "Come on, we'll go in together."

Elwen placed her hand in his and smiled.

"Together," she whispered, letting herself be guided into the dark knot of trees that was Mirkwood.

* * *

Thorin took the lead as they marched into the depths of the dark trees. He felt uneasy, leading them not only into this enchanted place, but into the realm of their enemy. He knew that for Elwen's sake, he should not hope to avoid the Elves, but they would mean trouble. They could ill afford to delay, and he doubted they would be greeted warmly by the Woodland Realm. It would be best to slip through the trees as quickly and quietly as possible, unaware to any inhabitants that may live beneath the canopy.

He turned to find Elwen, to assure her once again that after all was settle at the mountain, he would come back with her to the forest to find out more about her family. When he was King, his position would afford them security when entering Thranduil's domain. He did not relish in the idea of seeking out the Elven monarch, but for Elwen, he would do almost anything.

Thorin spied her near the back, head bent toward Kili, both of them smiling and talking easily in a hushed tone. A spike of anger pierced him and he ground his teeth against the feeling.

He had felt small pangs of jealousy toward Kili for his easy friendship with Elwen, but never anything this intense. Were his feelings amplified since coming to realize his feelings toward her? Or was it something else preying upon him, something in the forest already trying to work on his sanity? Gandalf had warned that the forest was heavy with illusion, that it would try to play tricks on their minds. Would they be coming under attack so quickly?

Thorin shook his head, trying to clear it. He told himself he had no reason to worry about Kili and Elwen. She was closest to his nephews than almost anyone else in the company. He had never begrudged them that closeness, and he would not start now, forests influence or no.

He turned sharply forward and gazed ahead. He could not be distracted. They needed to make it through the forest.

The leaves were covering up the stone of the path. He moved some around with his heavy boot until he saw the stonework beneath. It wasn't the work of a Dwarf, but had been good enough to last an age.

"The path turns this way," he called.

The path twisted and turned through the different terrain of the forest. There were parts of the path that were bare, but most of the time they were blocked by large tree trunks they were forced to traverse, or they had to make their way carefully around a high ledge. Every step was taken precariously, every movement wrought with danger. If one of them were to slip and fall into the enchanted water…Thorin didn't want to think of the consequences.

The trees were thick, so thick that very little light penetrated the canopy. What light that did pass through painted their surroundings in blues and greys, adding a gloomy pallor to an already unnerving landscape.

"I don't like this," said Elwen.

Thorin started, looking over and seeing her walking beside him. He had been so focused on keeping the trail that he had not noticed her.

"We had no choice," Thorin said softly. He wanted to reach out and squeezed her hand lightly. "But don't worry. We'll make quick work of the forest. You'll see." He almost believed his own words.

They trudged on for what seemed like hours. A few times they had to pause in order to find the trail beneath the brush. On more than one occasion, Dwalin thumped the handle of his hammer on the ground to find the paving stones of the trail.

"This way," he said, and they followed the twisting path further into the trees.

* * *

"Air," said Bofur, distressed. "I need air."

It had taken half a days' worth of walking, but it seemed to Elwen that the enhancements laid upon Mirkwood were finally worming their way into the Dwarves' minds. It started slowly, a few of the company exhibiting signs of slight discomfort, of feeling as if they were trapped. The trees were so packed that the very air felt tight.

Bilbo had been right when he said the forest felt sick. She felt a tingle in the back of her throat and her stomach roiled. Her muscles felt taught and the hair on the back of her neck stood up. And the sickness was caused by some sort of dark magic. She could feel it in her bones. She recognized the feeling of power, but there was an edge of wrongness, a slick, sick feeling that could only be described as malevolent. Gandalf had said the wood had not always been like this, and Elwen wondered what the hell had happened. Why had the Elves of the Woodland Real not put a stop to this? Had the darkness taken them as well?

A sinking fear began to creep in and she had to shake it off, reminding herself that they weren't actually being held prisoner by the trees. That they weren't doomed to wander through the forest for the rest of their days. They would eventually come out on the other side.

"My head," said Oin, "It's swimming."

Eventually could not come soon enough.

After a few more miles of trudging, Kili called out to the company.

"We found the bridge."

"Bridge!" Bofur exclaimed, shuffling ahead of the group, Elwen hot on his heels.

When they reached it, Elwen's heart sank. The bridge looked as though the arching middle had simply crumbled into the stream, making it impassable.

"Bugger it all!" she growled, kicking a large rock into the dark, murky water.

"We could try and swim it," Bofur said, not sounding eager.

Elwen and Bilbo were at the edge of the bridge looking down into the water. Yeah, swimming in that goop was _definitely_ going to turn out fine. Nobody was going to suddenly begin to mutate and grow a shark fin or anything.

"Didn't you hear what Gandalf said?" Thorin replied heavily. "A dark magic lies upon this forest. The waters of this stream are enchanted."

"Doesn't look very enchanting to me," said Bofur sarcastically. Bilbo and Elwen both gave him a look.

"We must find another way across," Thorin said, moving back toward the path.

Elwen began to keep a sharper eye on the lot. Gandalf was right; she was far less affected by whatever magic laid upon their surroundings. Even Bilbo was beginning to look a bit glassy eyed. He was staring at the water in such a way that made her worry the Hobbit might try to swim for it after all. She elbowed him lightly, causing him to jump.

"You alright, mate?" she asked, trying not to sound as worried as she truly was.

Bilbo blinked a few times and shivered, as if trying to shake away the bad feelings.

"I'll be fine," he said, not sounding very fine at all.

Elwen looked up and saw Kili making his way toward a tangle of vines that seemed to stretch across the black water.

"These vines seem strong enough," he said, yanking on one and readying himself to begin the swing across. Elwen groaned and sprinted across broken ground in order to reach him before he could do something stupid.

"Kili!" Thorin barked, and his nephew halted. Elwen exhaled. Reckless fool. "We send the lightest first," he added darkly.

The Dwarves all turned and looked at Bilbo, Bofur giving the Hobbit a flat smile. Bilbo tried to protest, but settled on giving the company a baleful glare.

As Bilbo readied himself to step out onto the vine, Elwen stepped forward.

"I'm going with him," she announced, tightening the straps that held her weapons to her back. The last thing she wanted was to lose Galadriel's gifts in this bubbling death water.

Many of the company protested, but none louder than the King and his nephews.

"It's too dangerous," Thorin reasoned, reaching for her arm in an attempt to pull her away from the water's edge. She danced out of his way expertly.

"Let Bilbo do it," Kili said pleadingly, "He's light as a child. He'll be fine."

"And I'm as big as a horse, am I?" she snarked, giving him a glare.

"If we say yes, will that get you to stay off the vines?" asked Fili.

"When we're safely on the other side," she said scathingly, "I'm going to grab the biggest branch I can find and shove it right up your-"

"Elwen," Thorin cut her off, his voice soft. "Please…"

It almost worked. She'd never heard him sound so worried. But she couldn't let Bilbo go alone.

"I'll be alright," she said, and readied herself to climb.

Thorin looked like he might protest, but in the end he simply shook his head and stood aside. "There is simply no arguing with you," he said gruffly, and she smiled.

Elwen turned to Bilbo and slapped him on the shoulder.

"Let's go."

* * *

Thorin stood at the edge of the water watching as Elwen and Bilbo took their first precarious steps out onto the vines. He wanted to shout at her for being foolish, but knew that would do nothing except earn her ire. In truth, she was probably lighter than the Hobbit, but it went against every instinct he possessed to let her put herself in harm's way. One slip of the foot, and into the bubbling, murky water she would go.

"It's alright," Bilbo grunted, walking across a thick vine. "Can't see any problem." The vine took a sudden dip, causing the Hobbit to lose his footing. "Ahh!" he cried. "There's one." Somehow he managed to hold himself up by his legs, keeping him from going face first into the stream. "Everything's… fine," he sighed.

Elwen shook her head, sliding quickly through the vines effortlessly. She wrapped her legs around a thick part of a vine and swung her body down, grabbing Bilbo and hauling him bodily upright.

"Bilbo will be fine, they said. Let him go alone, they said," Elwen grumbled. "Shows what you lot know!"

"Just concentrate on what you're doing," Thorin said, crossing his arms and giving her a stern look. She stuck out her tongue. He sighed.

If she accepted him, Thorin had a feeling that their life together was going to be far from boring.

Elwen made quick work of the vines while Bilbo fumbled around quite a bit longer. Once she made it across, Thorin motioned for the others begin to follow. It was the only way to cross the stream that he could see, so they might as well get it over with. He gripped one of the vines, testing it with a hard yank. When it didn't budge, he stepped out and began to make his way toward the opposite side.

Thorin saw Bilbo jump from the vine onto solid ground. He stayed on his knees, shaking his head and pointing at the ground. The forest was starting to effect the Halfling, which the Dwarf did not take as a good sign.

"Something's not right," said Bilbo. "It's not right at all. Stay where you are!" He and Elwen looked up to see most of the Dwarves already nearly halfway to them. "Oh."

"For cryin' out loud!" Elwen shouted. "Why didn't you wait? Watch yourself Bofur!"

Thorin was the first to make it to Elwen and Bilbo's side, landing heavily after a great leap to shore. Elwen was patting Bilbo's face, trying to drive away the sleepy slant of his eyes.

It was then Thorin heard what sounded like hoof prints dashing toward them. He heard Elwen gasp as a stag of the purest white came to a halt several paces away from them. He found himself becoming transfixed with the animal. It was the only pure thing seemingly alive in this foul place. The way it glowed as if the sun were beaming right upon it, despite the dark gloominess of their surroundings, was magnificent. In a way, the creature reminded him of Elwen.

As he was admiring the beauty of the stag, Thorin found himself lifting his bow against his will. It was as if a pair of invisible hands were forcing his arm back, readying the shot. Half of him railed against the idea of shooting something so radiant. But a small voice inside his head told him that it would be fine. They needed meat. There was no way to know how long they would be in the forest, and they had to keep their strength up.

"What are you doing?" Bilbo asked, but his voice sounded so far away.

"Thorin?" Elwen said. "Thorin, no!"

He released the arrow, missing the stag by a hairs breadth.

Thorin whirled on Elwen. She had knocked his hand at the last second, causing his arrow to go high. He was equal parts annoyed and relieved.

Suddenly, the scene around him began to change. The world shivered and he blinked hard, trying to clear his head. When he opened them again, Elwen was standing in front of him, a look of horror painted on her face. She staggered back, her hands clutching her stomach. When he was able to focus on her, Thorin realized her hands were wrapped around the slender shaft of an arrow. _His_ arrow.

Elwen opened and closed her mouth, gasping as if she were having trouble breathing. A single bead of blood fell from her lips, painting a crimson line down the slender slope of her pale throat. She began to fall backward as if in slow motion, her knees buckling and her body slumping in a lifeless fashion.

And as quickly as it came, the vision was over. Elwen was standing in front of him, no blood visible anywhere. He blinked a few more times, unsure at first if she were real. She gripped his arm and squeezed hard, as if knowing he needed something to anchor him to the here and now.

"It's the forest, Thorin," she said, her voice strained and worried. "Whatever is happening, it's the forest's magic. Don't let it distract you."

Forest. Yes, they were deep within a forest enchanted with dark magic. He could not let himself be lost to its alluring power.

"You shouldn't have done that," Bilbo said to Thorin. It took the Dwarf a moment to realize Bilbo was speaking of the stag. "It's bad luck."

"I don't believe in luck," Thorin said sternly, trying to make himself believe it. "We make our own luck."

A moment later, they heard a splash come from the stream. Bombur was lying flat on his back in the black water, snoring without a care in the world.

"We make our own luck, he says," Elwen growled, gesturing to the sleeping Bombur. "Yeah, I'm feeling very lucky right about now."

* * *

The rest of the company finally managed to make it over the stream. It took a while, but eventually they were able to fish Bombur out of the water and build a litter to carry him the rest of the way. It made the trek far slower and much more tedious, but they couldn't leave the large fellow behind to snore until he drowned. Elwen thought about it, thinking he'd deserve it due to pure stupidity, but she took her turn beneath the litter just like everyone else.

She found that the forest did not affect her in the same way in did the others, but she wasn't completely immune to the enchantment. Every now and then she would find herself stumbling, head swimming, a soul numbing fear sweeping over her entire being. It was hard not to feel trapped when the trees pressed in on them from all sides.

"We need to take a rest," Nori said, gasping.

No one disagreed, not even Thorin, who slumped down on the root of a tree. Elwen and Bilbo sat, the latter looking rather dazed. He sat for a moment staring out into the trees, eyes searching for something thhe couldn't quite see.

"What is that?" he asked to no one.

"What's wrong, Bilbo?" Elwen asked him.

"Voices," he said loudly, sounding half way to sleep. "Can you hear them?"

Elwen stood and became very still, her Elven ears straining to hear what her friend was hearing. It took a moment, but eventually she thought she heard _something_. A fowl whispering was on the air that made her incredibly uneasy. There was something in the forest, something evil that she did not wish to draw near.

"I hear nothing," Thorin replied drowsily. "No wind. No birdsong. What hour is it?"

"I do not know," Dwain replied, voice slurred. "I do not even know what day it is."

"This is taking too long," Thorin said, lurching to his feet. His voice seemed to echo through the trees. "Is there no end to this accursed forest?"

"None that I can see," Gloin replied despondently. "Only trees and more trees."

"That is indeed the definition of a forest," Elwen muttered, then slapped herself in the face when her eyes wouldn't focus.

"There," Thorin slurred, clambering down from his perch on unsteady limbs. "This way!"

Elwen looked around. Thorin didn't know the way anymore than she did, what was he...

"But Gandalf said-"

"Do as I say! Follow me!" Thorin pushed his way through the throng of Dwarves and began to veer off the path.

Elwen wanted to call out to him, tell him not to be a fool, but her mouth felt sewn shut. She looked over and saw Bilbo staring intently at a thick spider web draped across a tree. He plucked at the string absently, then perked up, as if he were hearing the voices again. Elwen didn't want to stick around to find out who, or what, it was that he was hearing.

"Let's go," she said, shaking her head to clear it. She grabbed the Hobbit by the arm and dragged him to his feet. "They'll leave us behind if we don't hurry, and then they'll get good and lost."

Together, Elwen and Bilbo scrambled after the Dwarves, calling for them to wait.

"Stop!" Bilbo cried. "We can't leave the path! We must stay on the path!"

But it was no good. The Dwarves were forging ahead, all seemingly out of their minds. Now that she was moving again, Elwen began to feel a bit more like herself. At least her head didn't feel like it was full of cotton balls.

"What the hell are you stone-heads doing!?" she shouted, following them up and over the trees. "Why did you leave the path?"

But shouting did no good. The Dwarves were too far gone, their minds befuddled by whatever foul enchantment lay upon the forest. It would be all she could do to keep them on their feet. _How I wish Gandalf were here_ , she despaired. _When I see him again, I'm going to whack him with that stupid stick of his._

"I don't remember this place," Balin said. Elwen was unsure how long they had been aimlessly wandering. "None of it's familiar."

"It's got to be here," shouted Dori, speaking of the path. "It can't have just disappeared!"

Elwen didn't bother pointing out that it hadn't disappeared. They were the stupid oafs who had wandered off the path, despite Gandalf specifically saying not to do that.

"Unless someone's moved it," said Dwalin. Elwen had to fight back the urge to laugh. Their situation was dire, she knew that, but hearing Dwalin sound like a stoner in a Pauly Shore film was enough to bring on the hysterics.

And they walked on and on and on. They could have walked for an hour or a year, Elwen didn't know. It began to drag so long that it almost seemed as if they were walking backward.

She wasn't sure how long they'd been walking when Ori stopped and stooped to the ground.

"Look," he said, holding something that had fallen to the forest floor.

"A tobacco pouch," said Dori in wonder. "There's Dwarves in these woods."

"Dwarves from the Blue Mountains, no less," said Bombur, taking the pouch in hand. "This is exactly the same as mine."

"Because it _is_ yours, you nitwit," Elwen said harshly.

"Do you understand?" Bilbo asked, equally as frustrated. Gandalf had been right, they were the least effected by the woods, though that was a small comfort. "We're going round' in circles. We are lost!"

"We are not lost," Thorin said. "We keep heading east."

"Oh, east is it? And how can you tell which way we're going?" Elwen snapped, crossing her arms.

"The lass is right," said Oin. "We've lost the sun."

Elwen whirled on him and pinned the healer with a fowl look. That old bugger could hear far better than he let on.

Bilbo was looking into the canopy above. Elwen looked up as well. There was very little light flittering through the leaves, but it was there.

"The sun," he said, looking at her. "We have to find the sun." He tapped himself on the forehead, trying to clear his thoughts. He pointed to the trees. "Up there."

"We need to get above the canopy!" Elwen exclaimed. If she could get to the tops of the trees, she could see which way they needed to go.

But the Dwarves had dissolved into a fit of rage. They were shoving one another and yelling, the din of their voices echoing through the trees. Elwen thought she heard the voices, the sinister whispers, and this time she was not the only one.

"Enough!" Thorin shouted. "Quiet! All of you!" Everyone fell silent as their King added softly, "We are being watched."

Elwen and Bilbo looked at one another and decided they didn't have a moment to lose. If Thorin was also hearing the voices, whatever was behind them must be drawing near. They needed to find their way through Mirkwood, and they needed to do it fast.

They began to climb as quickly as possible. Elwen scampered up the tree as though her life depended upon it, focusing on nothing but where to next place hand and foot. As the light grew brighter, she and the Hobbit climbed faster. When their heads finally burst through the leaves and into the open air, Elwen's mind finally felt free. She and Bilbo book took deep breaths, and she couldn't help but laugh as they rejoiced to feel the suns warmth once again upon their faces. She wished she'd grabbed Thorin by the collar and dragged him bodily up the tree, for she suddenly missed his warmth just as much as she'd missed the sun.

Bilbo laughed with glee as dozens of blue butterflies lifted into the air and took flight, filling the air with the sound of their paper-thin wings.

"I—I can see a lake!" Bilbo shouted happily down to the ground.

"And a river!" Elwen cried.

In the distance to their right stood Erebor. They were so close. So close…

"And the Lonely Mountain. We're almost there!"

They looked down, but were unable to see the ground from so high up. No reply came from their companions, and Elwen began to feel uneasy.

"Can you hear me?" Bilbo shouted once more. "I know which way to go!"

Elwen heard the sound of snapping branches below them, but that was all.

"Hello?" Bilbo said.

"Quiet!" Elwen hissed.

That was when they saw the tops of the trees begin to sway. Something very big was coming toward them very, vry quickly.

"Climb," Elwen whispered, fear gripping her throat so tightly she could barely speak. The voices, the spider webs…

"Climb!"

 **Authors Note:**

 **I AM ALIVE!**

 **Cheers to you all and I hope your holidays were grand! I can scarcely believe it is already 2018.**

 **I apologize for the delay, though I did warn you posting would become harder once I had caught up with myself. My method of writing takes quite a bit of time because I want to produce the best quality product for you all as I can. As I don't have beta readers or anything like that, it takes time, and even then I still screw up. I went back and re-read the first chapters to get myself back in Elwen's mindset and found a few typos. It made me cringe!**

 **Thank you to all who have stuck with me in my absence. I had so much going on at the end of 2017, and then 2018 started off with a bang. Literally. We had an electrical fire, it was terrifying, and I got bugger all done the first few weeks of the New Year. But I am back with a fresh batch of inspiration and I truly hope you all enjoy this chapter. It's been my least favorite to write, to be honest, but it was kind of fun trying out a different style. Seeing as they are all acting baked out of their mind, I wanted the flow to be a bit different.**

 **Thank you to all who have reviewed, favorited, and followed this story. I very much hope you enjoy this chapter. Please leave a review, they simply make my day!**

 **Cheers all,**

 **Líadan**


	20. Chapter 20 Spiders and Strangers

**Chapter 20 Spiders and Strangers**

Elwen dropped to a lower branch and peered out into the shadows. It was then she saw the spider webs, and her eyes widened in horror. Thick, silky strands hung in sheets from the branches, leaves glued together by the sticky substance. She'd been so focused on getting to the top, on finding a way out of that cursed place, that she'd somehow missed the giant ass webs everywhere. And where there were giant ass spider webs…

Bilbo landed clumsily behind her and looked around. He took one step and found his foot was encased in a web.

"Oh come on!" he sighed, and then shouted.

He tipped forward, reaching out and grabbing Elwen by reflex, and they both began to fall. She yelped in pain when her back smacked against a few tree branches. She knew they should be quiet, but both she and Bilbo were screaming loud enough to bring all manner of foul creatures calling.

Elwen reached out and grabbed Bilbo's arm tightly, then caught a branch with the other, ceasing their decent.

They dangled there for a moment, both breathing hard. This was bad, very bad. She couldn't hear the others, which was unusual giving how bloody loud they usually were. Whatever had been moving toward them through the trees, had it found their friends? Her heart seized with fear for the Dwarves, and she was readying herself to swing Bilbo over to another branch when she heard a rustling noise coming from just ahead.

Elwen felt all the blood drain from her face. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came. She heard Bilbo's breath catch as the pair watched in horror as the largest spider she had ever seen moved slowly toward them. It was massive and horrible, it's dark body and legs splitting the web between itself and them. Many, too many, large round black eyes blinked at them. And then, like the bloom of a grotesque, fanged flower, the spider opened its jaw and roared.

Elwen and Bilbo cried out as the creature lunged at them, and she let go of the branch. She preferred the idea of plummeting to her death to getting eaten by a giant ass spider.

Their descent was halted long before they hit the ground. A large, sticky web caught them like a net. They struggled, desperately trying to wiggle free, to no avail.

The spider was on them in an instant. Elwen thought it would eat them immediately, but she and Bilbo found themselves shrieking as they were wrapped tightly in its web. Oh yes, Elwen thought vaguely. I'd forgotten. Spiders; they paralyze their prey, wrap them, and suck out their insides.

Her last conscious thought was of Thorin, Kili, and the others, praying that they'd gotten away. That they would make it out of the forest, and she hoped she died before the spider ate her alive.

* * *

Bilbo came back into the world wide eyed and horror stricken. Immediately he remembered the spider and the stickiness of the web all around him. He could feel himself being dragged behind the spider that had ambushed them in the trees, and he didn't need to turn his head to know Elwen was wrapped in web being dragged beside him.

He couldn't tell if she was awake or not. If she wasn't, he prayed she was only sleeping.

When he saw a chance, he struck.

There was just enough room in the web, thanks to his small stature, to move his arm and draw his sword. When he heard the creatures scuttling and saw its shadow move above him, Bilbo thrust the tip of his sword upward and through the web, into the soft meat of the creature's underbelly. It reared back on a few of its legs and struggled, but he thrust up with more force and yanked. The spider fell limply from the high branch it had dragged them up.

Bilbo sat up, desperately pulling at the web still wrapped around his face and body. He'd never wondered about the smell of a spider's web before, but now he was well acquainted with it.

Spider webs smelled of death.

Once he was mostly free, Bilbo looked into the trees and saw the other spiders skittering around on their many legs. _An infestation,_ he thought with a shudder.

That's when he saw the others. The Dwarves were hanging from branches, tightly cocooned in sticky web. For a panicked moment, he thought they were all dead. He thought his friends had been killed and eaten by spiders, leaving him and possibly Elwen to navigate the forest alone. If they could escape the swarm, which wasn't likely.

He was about to scurry back to Elwen and release her, but one of the spiders began to climb up the tree he was perched on. He put his back against the opposite side of the trunk and hoped their sense of smell was rubbish.

As it climbed past him, Bilbo suddenly recalled that he had an advantage over the spiders.

Bilbo retrieved the gold ring from his pocket, the ring that had shockingly rendered him invisible when slipped on his finger. It had saved him from the creature Gollum down in the goblin tunnels. Perhaps he could use it to save them now.

He slid the ring on, immediately feeling the rush of magic coming from the object. The world around him took on the same grey pallor it had when used the first time. This time, however, Bilbo heard voices.

" _Kiilllll theeemmm. Kiiiillll theeemmm."_

It took him a moment to realize it was the spiders he was hearing. The ring somehow gave him the ability to understand the foul creatures, and this made his stomach lurch. Whatever power this ring had, it was unlikely a power he could control.

" _Eat them now, while their blood is running!"_

" _Their hide is tough. There is good juice inside"_

" _Stick it again! Stick it again! Finish it off!"_

Bilbo perked up. If their blood was still running, that meant they were alive! And if he didn't hurry, his friends would suffer a fate worse than death. Having your insides sucked out while conscious and aware sounded like a terrible way to go.

He watched as the spiders approached the hanging Dwarves, clearly ready to begin their smorgasbord. He couldn't see clearly through the haze, , but he did see one of the Dwarves wiggle just enough to kick a spider in its gaping maw.

" _Ahh! The meat's alive and kicking!"_

" _Kill him, kill him now. Let us feast."_

" _Feast! Feast!"_

Bilbo shuddered as the spiders began to chant in unison. He ducked as more spiders gathered, one nearly skimming the top of his head as it crawled upside down on a limb. There were so many, too many for him to face on his own.

He grabbed a thick, broken branch and tossed it as far as he could into the trees. It had the desired effect, as it drew the spider's attention away from the company.

" _What is it, what is it,"_ they hissed as they ran along the branches.

It was horrible, watching how quickly they navigated the tree tops. He shuddered, then turned back to his friends.

One spider had stayed behind, determined to begin its feasting, no doubt.

" _Fat and juicy,"_ it said. _"Just a little taste."_

Bilbo approached its bulbous behind as it grabbed Bombur, the fattest and juiciest of their prey. It turned the Dwarf over and hovered, preparing to sink its fangs in the softness of his belly. Before it could, Bilbo lashed out, slashing at the creature's abdomen. It whirled around with a pained cry. Bilbo brought down his sword again and again as the beast roared in pain, the sound of his strikes echoing through the trees.

Never in a million years would he have imagined himself battling a giant, snarling spider with a sword that had been found amongst treasure in a troll hoard.

Gandalf was right; Bilbo Baggins was not the same Hobbit he'd been the day he left the Shire.

He'd been a timid and unsure as to how he would be able to pass through the wilderness without his handkerchief. The things he'd done up to that point felt impossible. Battling orcs and trolls, seeing Elves and stone giants. Beating Gollum at riddles, and sleeping in the home of the last Skin-changer. And he'd done it all with a troop of Dwarves, a Wizard, and a Half-Elf. _My friends_ , he thought fiercely. _And I will not let them down._

The next time Bilbo brought down his sword, one of the spiders many legs went flying.

" _Curse it!"_ hissed the spider. _"Where is it? Where is it?"_

Bilbo took off the ring, grinning.

"Here."

He thrust forward with the sword, shoving it as hard as he could between the spiders many eyes.

" _It stings!"_ cried the creature.

Bilbo yanked the sword free and the spider topped through the trees and down to the ground. Dead.

He panted, looking at the sword with new eyes. He remembered something Balin said back in Rivendell, that swords were named great deeds done in battle. He wasn't sure how great a deed killing a few spiders were, but surely it amounted to something.

"Sting," he repeated and glanced down at the ground ruefully. "That's a good name. Sting."

* * *

When Elwen began to stir, it took every ounce of her self-control not to immediately begin panicking. She'd never been claustrophobic, but when she found herself wrapped tight in a sticky web, it was almost enough to make her lose it.

She told herself to take deep breaths, but the stench of the web made her want to retch. _Of course it stinks_ , she thought wildly. _It comes out of their butts!_

Elwen could hear the spiders moving through the branches, hissing and shrieking and skittering around in a way that made her skin crawl. She wiggled and writhed, every small movement loosening the web just a fraction, but not enough to make any real difference.

She froze when a shadow moved into view to loom above her. Was this it? Was she about to end up a snack for some eight legged freak?

Instead of feeling a stinger pierce her flesh, Elwen heard a ripping sound. Light, dim as it was in the forest, filtered through, and she could breathe fresh air. She came bursting from the web, blade in hand, and turned to see Bilbo standing above her, clutching his sword.

"Let's get going!" he said, and she needed no more encouragement than that.

Together, Elwen and Bilbo went hacking away at the webs and releasing the Dwarves one by one. They grunted as they landed in a heap on the forest floor, rolling and writhing until they were each free, making sure each other were in one piece.

Elwen ran and helped cut them free of their confines, careful not to nick any skin. When she reached Thorin, pulling web off him in chunks, he grabbed her face and immediately began to look for signs of injury.

"When they took us, I was sure they'd gotten you and the Hobbit," he said hoarsely, leaning his forehead to hers. The moment was brief, but the gesture spoke volumes. He hadn't known what happened to her, and it had frightened him.

"They did," Elwen chuckled, taking his hands and squeezing them between hers. "Bilbo rescued us! Awfully convenient having such a little fellow around."

Thorin smiled, and for the first time in what seemed like days, Elwen felt a little warmth seep into her.

"Where's Bilbo?" Bofur asked, concerned.

"I'm up here!"

Elwen looked up to see Bilbo perched on a branch. Her eyes widened.

"Look-"

But it was too late. The giant creature was up the tree and over the branch before she could scream. She only had time to listen to his shouts as he tumbled down the tree, the spider impaled on his small sword pulling him down.

The Dwarves and she were surrounded so quickly, it barely registered. Both blades in hand, she tried to survey their surroundings for an escape route and found none. They could try to leg it, but the spiders were simply too fast. They had no choice but to fight their way out, and she wasn't sure she liked those odds either. There was no end to them, it seemed. If they were going to get out of there, they needed to do it quickly. _But there's no way of knowing how much forest we have left to navigate,_ she thought. Their situation was beginning to look bleak.

The spiders surged forward, and the company met them with hammer and blade. Thorin swung Orcrist in wide arcs, severing twitching legs from hairy abdomens as Dwalin came down on them with his great hammer. As one spider jumped on top of Bombur, the fat Dwarf holding it at bay by grabbing its fangs and hanging on for dear life, the Dwarves each grabbed a leg and pulled. The result was sickening, and Elwen did her best to ignore it. For her part, Elwen was sliding beneath the spiders, removing legs and slitting open bellies.

The battle raged on, steel and roars echoing through the trees. Elwen was caught unaware by a stray spider leg and was knocked back into a tree. She managed to right herself, grabbing hold of the trunk and swinging round instead of being spattered against it, and launched herself at a spider who had just wrapped Kili up in its legs.

"Are you alright!?" Kili yelled over the din.

Elwen nodded, and they both flew back into the fray.

They tried to retreat down a path through the trees, but found themselves cut off by spiders dropping down out of the trees.

Elwen and Thorin looked at each other for a long moment, both knowing their strength was waning. They lifted their swords anyway, and Elwen wiped the sweat from her eyes. There was nothing for it. She'd fight till she couldn't lift her arms.

Just as the company was about to surge forward for another attack, Elwen's ears picked up on the subtle sound of footfalls along the branches. Her face jerked up toward the canopy and there she saw a sight that made her eyes widen and her mouth drop.

"Elves," she whispered.

Quickly, Thorin shoved her to the side and into the shadow of a tree. On instinct, she lifted her cloaks hood to conceal her face and scrambled up the tree onto a low, leafy branch. She should be eager to meet the Elves of the Woodland Realm, but felt it best to be cautious. Beorn's warning rang in her ears. _Be wary of them._ She trusted the Skin-walker, so wary she would be.

Elves, how many she wasn't sure, were moving through the trees like water down smooth stone. Their movement was as graceful as it was efficient. Elwen spotted one Elf in particular, a blonde haired, broad shouldered male sliding down a spider's web. He was an incredible fighter, there was no denying that. She watched as he slid down an embankment and beneath a spider, slitting it open from top to bottom.

As soon as the Elf hit the ground, his bow was in his hands, arrow knocked, and aimed directly at Thorin.

"Do not think I won't kill you, Dwarf," he said sneeringly. "It would be my pleasure."

Now instead of spiders, the Dwarves of Erebor found themselves surrounded by Elves. Each with bows, all aimed their way.

Elwen glared and drew her dagger. She dropped casually from the limb above the blonde, her dagger at his throat, hood still hiding her face.

"And do not think I will not kill you, Elf," she snarled.

Every arrow that had been trained on her friends were now trained on her.

"No!" Fili shouted.

"Are you out of your bloody mind!?" Dwalin growled.

Elwen held her dagger firmly in place.

"Please…"

Elwen met Thorin's eyes with her hooded gaze and sighed. They'd shoot her dead before she could as much as nick this assholes skin. And she wasn't sure slitting someone's throat was the best way to begin searching for her family. She lowered her dagger, and one of the Elves seized her by the arm and yanked her toward her companions.

"What have I said about your temper?" Thorin hissed, but there was no bite to his words. Only relief.

Elwen shrugged. "I don't take kindly to people shoving pointy objects in your face."

This made his lips twitch.

"Nor do I," he said softly.

As the Elves moved in, Elwen heard Kili shouting for help.

"Kili!" Fili shouted. Elwen fought against her guard, throwing herself toward the sound of Kili's voice, but he had an iron grip on her. She stamped on his foot, which surprised him enough to drop his guard for moment, but not long enough for her to move even a few paces.

"Fili, I can't-"

"Kili!" his brother shouted again.

Somewhere in the close distance, Elwen could hear a battle. Another had come onto the scene, an Elf woman from the sound of her grunts, and she was slaying spiders left and right. _Please_ , she thought desperately. _Get to Kili. Please, I can't lose him to those foul creatures…I can't lose him at all._

"Throw me your dagger!" Elwen heard Kili shout. Judging by the look on Fili's face, he couldn't hear what was happening. "Quick!"

"If you think I'm giving you a weapon Dwarf," she heard a female voice answer his plea. "You're mistaken!"

"KILI!"

The spider roared one more time, and it was over.

When Kili was dragged toward the rest of the group by a tall Elven woman, Elwen ceased her squirming. She froze, eyes wide. The woman…a tall, lithe woman with sunset hair. _She's the Elf from my vision. She's the Elf Kili dies to save…_

She couldn't think about that, not then, though her curiosity was peaked. Who was she, and what kind of bond would she form with the youngest Prince of Erebor? Elwen watched the other woman warily, distrustful. Whatever she became to Kili, right now she was the one pointing a weapon at him and that made her Elwen's enemy.

"Search them," the blonde ordered, and the Elves jumped to obey.

So he was their leader. Good to know.

They were all quickly stripped of their weapons and searched. An Elf tired to pull her hood back but she snatched at it, holding it in place. They looked at her strangely, but left it alone. She snarled when they took her swords, dagger, and bow.

"Those were a gift!" she shouted, and was ignored.

"Ey'! Give it back!" Gloin shouted at the blond, who was searching him. "That's private!"

The Elf leader had taken Gloin's locket.

"Who is this?" asked the Elf. "Your brother?"

"That is my wife!" Gloin answered, clearly offended.

"And what is this horrid creature? A goblin mutant?"

At this, Gloin was positively murderous.

"That's my wee lad, Gimli!"

The blonde raised an eyebrow contemptuously. Elwen very much wished she'd at least cut his hair off or something.

Elwen watched in amusement as one of the Elves kept removing knives from every nook and cranny of her adoptive brother's body. She almost laughed when Fili sighed after the Elf found one of his more secret pockets. A walking armory, that one.

"Gyrth in yngyl bain?" the blonde approached the she-Elf who had saved Kili from the spiders. Elwen's ears perked up. _Are the spiders dead?_

"Ennorner gwanod in yngyl na nyryn. Engain nar." _Yes, but more will come. They're growing bolder._

Elwen raised an eyebrow. So the spiders were an ongoing problem for the Woodland Realm. She wondered if they knew where they came from, and if so, why not go and exterminate them at their source?

The Elf that relieved Thorin of Orcrist handed the weapon to their leader reverently. Judging by the way the blonde eyed the weapon, Elwen knew it was known to him.

"Echannen i vegil hen vin Gondolin," he said, voice tinged with slight amazement. "Magannen nan Gelydh." _This is an ancient Elvish blade. Forged by my kin._ He held the blade, testing its weight and balance.

He gave Thorin a baleful glare. "Where did you get this?"

"It was given to me," Thorin said calmly, honestly.

The Elf leveled the blades point between Thorin's blue eyes.

"Not just a thief, but a liar as well."

Elwen's eye twitched. She'd had just about enough of that blonde haired, superior, condescending pointy eared pretty boy.

"He's telling the truth." Elwen stepped next to Thorin and pulled back her hood.

A few of the Elves standing close by, including the red head from her vision, gasped when they saw her, recognizing her as Elf kind. She glared up at the tall blonde Elf, and her breath hitched in her chest. Somehow, he seemed almost familiar to her…She didn't have time to examine that overly long. Not while he leveled a blade at Thorin.

"Lower your weapon," she growled, this time in the language of Elves. A murmur passed through the crowd. The guard that had taken her weapons approached, showing them to her leader.

"Where do you hail from?" asked the blonde, curious.

"Imladris," she replied, which was truth enough. "Those weapons were a gift from Galadriel, Lady of Lorien. Orcrist was trusted to this Dwarf by Lord Elrond himself. Are you such a thief that you would take them from us?"

Elwen looked the blonde fully in the face then, and gasped. A pair of steely blue eyes, a mirror to her own, gazed steadily back. Recognition fell over his face like a sudden sunset and he slowly lowered the blade away from Thorin.

"Who are you?" he asked, his voice almost a whisper. "What is your name?"

"Elwen," she replied slowly, warily. "I am called Elwen Greenleaf."

More gasps ripped through the crowd. The red-headed female brought her hand to her lips in what looked like shock.

Quick as a viper, the leader reached out and grabbed her arm, yanking her forward. He bent down, so close she could feel the heat of his breath on her face and see flecks of silver in his eyes. _Her_ eyes.

"You lie," he hissed, his voice all venom and heat. He squeezed her arm so hard she was sure it would bruise.

"Release her!" Thorin demanded. The Dwarves began to struggle against their guards.

"Get your hands off her!" Kili shouted, reaching for her.

"You do NOT handle a Lady of Rivendell in that manner!" Dori screeched.

"Why I'll-" growled Dwalin.

Hearing the shouts of her friends sent fire through her veins. Who the hell did these Elves think they were? Elwen reached up and grabbed the blonde's wrist, squeezing on a pressure point she knew was there. She wasn't entirely sure how Elven anatomy went, but she was fairly positive there were nerves running beneath their skin just like hers, and she'd pinch the hell out of his if he didn't let go of her.

"Why would I lie about my name?" Elwen asked. "And if you do not release me, I will break your delicate little hand!"

The Dwarves cheered. She simultaneously wanted to hug them and punch them in the mouth at the same time.

"I'd let her go if I were you," Fili said, his voice low. "My sister is not to be trifled with." Elwen's eyebrows lifted. She'd never heard Fili sound so menacing before. She repressed a grin. They must have missed a weapon or two.

"Sister?" the Elf repeated, looking at Fili. They glared at one another for a long moment. Elwen jerked her arm, bringing the Elves attention back to her.

"What I want to know is who _you_ are," Elwen demanded, squeezing his wrist a little harder. The man didn't flinch.

After a long pause, he dropped her arm.

"Enwenno hain!" he shouted. _Take them!_ "Do not harm the girl." He gave her one last look before turning his back.

"We take her to the King."

* * *

 **Authors Note:**

 **Hello all! I am SO proud of myself for being back this month with an update. Chapter 21 shouldn't be too far behind this one, as most of it is already written and only needs a bit of fine tuning. Apologies if there are errors in this chapter, I am just so eager for you lot to get your paws on it!**

 **So glad to see people have stuck around and are still enjoying the story. Thank you so much to those who are following and adding the story to your favorites! You are so appreciated! Please consider leaving me a review; I love chatting with readers, hearing people's opinions as to where they think the story is going, and of course, who they ship Elwen with!**

 **We are getting very close to a few moments everyone has been patiently waiting for! I think you will all get a lot of pay off in Chapter 21! How do you think Thranduil will react to Elwen? Do you think Thorin will FINALLY speak his true feelings aloud? Or am I just gonna tease you for a few more chapters? Stay tuned to find out!**

 **Pallysd'Artagnan: Thank you, I am so glad to be back! I cannot WAIT to see what you think of chapter 21. I wish I was completely ready to be posted because I'm so eager! As for her being accosted, I mean, you'll just have to wait and see! MUWAHAHAHA! Thank you so much for the review!**

 **Carre: Hello lovely! 1. I LOVE that phrase! I'm going to use it haha! It is good to be back, and good to read another one of your lovely reviews. 2. You are definitely going to love the next chapter! 3. Right!? Sometimes Gandalf needs a good whack. I don't know if you're remembering it correctly or not, it's been a while since I've re-read The Hobbit. Maybe it's about time for another read, however! 4. Nope, you know Elwen isn't gonna miss a chance to do something crazy! 5. No problem darling, just happy that you're reviewing and continuing a fun little chat with me! Thank you so much for reading!**

 **Alright lords and lassies, I will see you all as soon as possible!**

 **Cheers,**

 **Líadan**


	21. Chapter 21 The Lost Princess

**Chapter 21 The Lost Princess**

The Elves marched the company through the forest, which seemed to grow lighter the further away they were from the spot where the hideous spiders lay dead. Elwen tilted her face toward the sun and basked in what little warmth she felt through the green leaves.

They had chained the others but left Elwen's hands free, which she found odd. She was the one who had held a blade to their pretty blond boy's throat; if anyone should be bound, it was her. More than once she eyed the Elf marching beside her and wondered if it would do any good to try and make a grab for the knife on his belt. She held back, however, after Fili caught her eye and shook his head emphatically.

Fighting them would do little good. Elwen was Elf kind, yes, but these Elves had been training for centuries more than likely. While she might match them in speed, she could never hope to be their equal in skill with blade and bow. She bit back a curse. What good was she, belonging to some ancient line of Elves if she had not their skill in magic or combat? She felt helpless as they came to a bridge that would no doubt lead them straight into the realm of King Thranduil. The king who had turned his back on Thorin and his people during their time of greatest need. _I should be able to get us out of here, and I can't._

When the Elves had chained the Dwarves and begun their march, Bofur had whispered to Thorin, "Where's Bilbo?"

The Hobbit had disappeared after the spiders attacked. Elwen had to believe he'd survived the onslaught and had remained hidden as the Elves descended upon them. She had to put her hope in him now, that he would find a way to rescue them once again. It seemed impossible; one Hobbit against the entire Woodland Realm, but if anyone could do it, it'd be Bilbo.

The gate was made of what looked like gray and blue stone, built as if it were covering the entrance to a cave. It wasn't exactly what Elwen had thought it would be. She wasn't sure what she'd expected, perhaps something more open like Rivendell. But when the blond Elf ordered the gates to be shut behind them and her eyes adjusted to the dimly lit cavern she found herself in, Elwen gaped unashamedly.

Just as the Elves of Rivendell had built their structures around the land of the valley, so had the Wood Elves. Their home was carved from rock and wood and dirt, a network of brides taking them to different levels of the subterranean cavern. Everything flowed with the structure of the land, and it was stunning in its complexity. Where Rivendell was elegant and fair, the Woodland Realm was rougher and truly one with the world around it.

Elwen felt a pinch in her chest, a longing she hadn't known she would feel. _This was where I was born,_ she thought with certainty. _These are literally the roots that bore me into this world._ Would her family be here? Had she finally found somewhere to call home?

The blonde Elf ordered the Dwarves to be taken to the cells, all but she and Thorin. Kili and Fili shouted and pushed against their guards, but were eventually dragged away. She was fairly sure they were calling the Elves all manner of filthy names in Khuzdul, judging by the smirk on Thorin's lips as his nephews were taken away.

Elwen and Thorin were taken up steps with no railing onto a high dais surrounded by spires. To the king. She understood why Thorin have an audience, he was their leader. But why her? Why hadn't she been tossed into the cells with the rest of the company?

The blond Elf from the forest came to mind. His similar eyes, the way he had reacted when he'd heard her name. Had he known her? She remembered the strange sense of familiarity she'd felt when looking at him. Perhaps she'd already found what she sought. Perhaps…

Elwen stopped dead when they came to the dais. Sitting on a throne of carved curved wood just above them sat the King of the Woodland Realm. Thranduil. He was dressed in a floor length, ornate silver robe with tall leather boots, and a crown of twigs and autumn leaves. He descended from the dais in which his throne sat, long white blonde hair flowing down his back.

Elwen didn't say a word, just openly stared at the Elf male before her. She took in his hair, the shape of his face, dark full brows and hard line of his mouth. But it was the eyes that left her speechless. Almost colorless, like a blade of fine Elven steel. She knew that if she were to draw closer, small flecks of blue would become visible within their depts. Like the Elf in the woods. _Like mine._

Elwen wanted to vomit.

King Thranduil paused in front of her, his eyes moving from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. His face didn't change, not so much as a wince or a raised eyebrow. She knew her face was like a book telling a story of shock and fear. So much fear.

The king's eyes swept to the Dwarf beside her. Thorin's deep blue eyes, so warm compared to the icy depths of the king's, were looking at her in concern. She shook her head, unable to speak. Her mouth felt like cotton, her tongue weighed down by words she did not want to speak aloud. Luckily for her, she didn't have to.

"Some would say a noble quest is as hand."

When Thranduil spoke, Elwen's insides felt shaken. His voice was deep and strong and thrummed with a power she could not deny. This person was ancient, his power significant.

Thranduil looked down at Thorin with slitted eyes.

"A quest to reclaim a homeland and slay a dragon. I myself suspect a more prosaic motive."

He moved to stand behind her and Thorin. Neither moved nor spoke, just gave one another a look that spoke volumes. They were caught.

"Attempted burglary, or something of that ilk."

Thranduil moved silently, like a large cat stalking a deer. He loomed over Thorin, looking him in the face for the first time.

"You have found a way in." It wasn't an accusation. He spoke with certainty. "You seek that which would bestow upon you the right to rule. The King's Jewel; the Arkenstone. It is precious to you beyond measure." He took a step back. The smile that spread across his stony features sent a shiver up Elwen's spine. "I understand that."

Elwen's eyes narrowed just a fraction. She could see manipulation for what it was, and this guy was about to attempt to strike one hell of a bargain if he were trying to appeal to Thorin.

"There are gems in the mountain that I, too, desire," Thranduil continued, his voice dipping low. "White gems of pure starlight. I offer you my help." Thranduil inclined his head humbly, a gesture so fake Elwen would have laughed had she not felt so choked.

Thorin's lips curved upward ever so slightly, and he did chuckle a bit.

"I am listening," he said.

Elwen wasn't sure what he was doing, but she might have to bash him in the face with something if he was actually falling for this garbage.

"I will let you go…" Thranduil began, giving Thorin a significant look, "if you but return what is mine."

Thorin unfolded his arms and turned away from the king, as if in deep thought.

"A favor for a favor."

"You have my word," said Thranduil. "One king to another."

 _And that's where you lost him_ , Elwen thought as Thorin paused his steps, his shoulders tightening. She heard him take a deep sigh, and she shook her head. No deal for their freedom would be struck this day.

"I would not trust Thranduil," Thorin began, his voice growing loud and echoing through the cavern. "The great king, to honor his word, should the end of all days be upon us!" He turned and pointed an accusing finger. "You, who lack all honor!" He pounded his chest with a hard fist.

Elwen crossed her arms and watched Thranduil closely. She couldn't tell if his expression was one of shock, or pure rage. Either way, she was on her guard. If Thranduil lunged at Thorin, she'd be on him like a monkey on a cupcake.

"I have seen how you treat your friends," Thorin spat viciously, surging forward, sixty years of anger burbling to the surface. "We came to you once, starving, homeless, seeking your help. But you turned your back. You turned away from the suffering my people and the inferno that destroyed us! _Imrid amrad ursul_!"

Elwen wasn't sure what he'd said, but judging from Thranduil's reaction, she imagined it was something akin to 'Eat shit and die, pixie.'

The king leapt toward Thorin so fast Elwen barely had time to move. Even when she could react, she could not come between them. Thranduil was inches away from Thorin's face, speaking menacingly.

"Do not talk to me of dragon fire," he hissed. "I know its wrath and ruin."

Thranduil's face contorted for a moment, his body shivering, and Elwen saw what seemed like a glamour slip off the left side of his face. Elwen gaped in horror as a pit opened up on the Elf king's cheek, revealing muscle and bone. Burn scars stretched across his cheek and jaw, his eye turning milky and unseeing.

"I have faced the great serpents of the north!"

When he stepped away, his face was back to the polished stone he'd worn before. She blinked. Which one was his true face?

He started up the carved steps back toward his throne, turning to gaze down at Thorin malevolently.

"I warned your grandfather of what his greed would summon. But he would not listen." Thranduil turned, moving up the stairs. "You are just like him."

Elwen felt as though she had dragon fire in her veins at that moment, knowing what a blow that would be to Thorin.

Thranduil made a sweeping motion with his hands, and guards appeared on either side of them.

"The girl stays," Thranduil said carelessly, and the guard let her go and gripped Thorin's other arm.

"Elwen!" Thorin shouted as he was being drug backward.

"Thorin! I'll be alright!" she tried to tell him, but he was struggling too hard.

"Stay here if you will, and rot," said Thranduil from his throne. "A hundred years is a mere blink in the life of an elf. I'm patient. I can wait."

But Thranduil had lost his audience, for Thorin was no longer concerned with his words. He was struggling forward, refusing to leave Elwen without a fight. Eventually the guards got the better of him and drug him away, but only after three more joined the first two in their struggle. Elwen watched him go until he was out of sight and his voice was barely more than an echo.

* * *

When Thorin was drug bodily down into the cells, shouting and calling the Elven guards every foul word he knew in their secret language, Kili's heart sank. He was calling Elwen's name.

"Where is she?" Kili shouted over the echoing voice of his uncle, trying to get his attention. "Where is Elwen?"

He put his face near the bars and saw the female guard from earlier shut Thorin inside. Kili quite liked this Elf. Tauriel, he'd heard her called. She seemed to be in charge of the guards, and also seemed to be the only Elf with a sense of humor. She reminded him of Elwen in that way.

"She is with their king," Thorin said, and spat.

Several of the Dwarves swore. Fili kicked at the bars on his cell and Dwalin tried ramming them with his shoulder once more. But it was as Balin had said when they were first caged. These were the halls of the Woodland Realm, and no one would leave but by the king's consent. _And the king has Elwen._

"We can't get to her," Kili said, sounding wretched. "If she needs us, we can't…"

He let the sentence drop. He'd never felt so helpless, so frightened, in all his life. Not when they'd nearly been eaten by trolls, nor when the orcs had them trapped in trees on a cliffs edge. As long as he could reach her, Kili felt sure of being able to protect her. He couldn't protect her trapped in a dungeon.

"Elwen is as tough as Dwarf forged nails," Dwalin said with confidence.

"Dwalin's right, lads," Bofur said consolingly. "She'll give as good as she gets. She always does."

Kili wondered if Thorin was remembering his split lip.

Kili knew Elwen could take care of herself. She was their equal, if not better, in combat, and didn't take guff from anyone. He knew she could handle herself, even without weapons. But that didn't quell the urge inside to run to her, to put himself between Elwen and all possible danger. It was an instinct he couldn't fight anymore. He loved her. She was his One.

It wasn't something he'd let himself believe up to that point. He tried to fight it for so long because he knew she wanted another. His uncle. His king. He'd gone along Fili wanting to claim Kin's Rights because it would mean protection for her once they reclaimed Erebor. But it was also to keep her always close, no matter who she chose.

"Did he offer you a deal?" Balin asked Thorin.

"He did," Thorin replied angrily. "I told him he could go _ish kakhfê ai'd dur rugnu_! Him and all his kin!" He shouted the last bit, the rather nasty swear echoing throughout the halls.

Kili vaguely wondered if any of the Elves spoke Khuzdul. He hoped not, because if they did, someone was definitely pissing in their supper.

The she-Elf Tauriel passed his cell in a blur of auburn hair and armor. He pressed his face to the bars and shouted, "Wait!"

She paused, looking down at him.

"Can you tell us if Elwen, our companion, is safe?" he asked. "What does the king want with her?"

"Our king's business is none of your concern," she said haughtily, peering down at him with narrowed eyes.

"It's my concern if it involves Elwen," Kili replied stonily.

"Don't bother, lad," Dwalin said from his cell. "Elves, they are unfeeling creatures. She will tell us nothing."

"Is this friend of yours unfeeling?" Tauriel retorted, offended.

"She wasn't raised by Elves," said Fili. "She was a little girl when-"

"Enough, Fili!" Thorin barked. "Elwen's business is her own. We will have to trust in her ability to look after herself."

Thorin sounded so different from his usual self, as if he were trying to hold back his emotions. Kili knew it was no easier for him to be separated from Elwen, to not know if she was in danger.

"Please," he whispered, and her eyes widened just a fraction.

Tauriel gave Kili a look he'd not seen on the face of any Elf, save Elwen. A strange tenderness mixed with sympathy. Perhaps she understood what it meant to be trapped and unable to help those she loved most.

The moment passed, and she once again lifted her chin to give Kili a baleful look.

"King Thranduil would never harm one of his own without just cause," she said loudly, so that the entire company could hear. Then lowly, she added, "Do not fear for your friend, Dwarf of Erebor, for she is far safer within these halls than you are."

Before Kili could reply, the Elf walked away without another word.

"What was that about? 'One of his own.' What does that mean?" Fili asked from one cell over.

"I haven't a clue," Kili said darkly, "but I don't have a good feeling about this."

"Nor do I, _nadadith_ ," said Fili. "Nor do I."

* * *

Elwen whirled back toward the throne and took a menacing step forward. A guard moved to intercept, but the king waved them off. All of her weapons had been taken, so of course she was no danger. She nearly laughed, imagining launching herself toward Thranduil and poking his eyes out.

"If you harm a single hair on any of their heads-"

"A substantial demand," the Elf king interrupted her threat loftily, "considering the abundance of hair on a single Dwarf. However, I can assure you that they will not be harmed."

Thranduil, King of Wood and Stone, stood and once more moved down the dais. Elwen wondered if this was how he got his exercise. He was as graceful as Lord Elrond, but his gait was far more predatory. She lifted her chin and met his gaze, refusing to be prey.

"Your name?" asked Thranduil lowly, pausing his steps mere inches from her.

"Elwen," she replied. "Elwen Greenleaf."

An intake of breath could be heard from the closest standing guards. The Elf from the woods moved onto the dais, causing Elwen to jump in surprise.

"Father, is this…" he paused, and Elwen started.

"You're the prince," she said, surprised. He inclined his head to her in greeting, then turned back to Thranduil.

"Is this her?" he asked, his voicing rising.

They looked at Thranduil, who jerked his head in the affirmative.

Elwen felt as though the floor had dropped from beneath her, sending her into some black void. Somehow, she had known. She'd known when she saw the prince in the woods. She'd known from the moment she'd laid eyes on the king.

"I saw you in a vision," Elwen said, her voice shaking. "You're my father."

She closed her eyes, forcing back the tears suddenly blurring her vison. When she was sure she would not weep, she turned toward the Elf who had captured she and her friends.

"That means you're my brother. What's your name?"

"I am called Legolas. Legolas Greenleaf."

The prince, Legolas, took a hesitant step toward her. He reached out and touched her hair with only the tips of his fingers. His silver-blue eyes were shining as he took in her face.

"You were named after me, in part."

Elwen's eyes widened. The depth of sorrow in his voice shook her to the core.

"You were a babe when I saw you last," he said softly. "You have grown." Elwen didn't know what to say, so she offered up a shaky smile. Legolas turned to his father then, eyes hard. "I was told my sister was dead."

Elwen reeled, shocked. "Dead?" she shrieked, looking to Thranduil. "You told him I was dead?!"

She realized yelling at a being that was possibly older and more powerful than Lord Elrond probably wasn't the best idea she'd ever had, but she didn't care. She looked back to Legolas and noted the grief etched onto his statuesque features and felt the sudden urge to embrace him. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined there had been someone out there who missed her, mourned her even. She had hoped, but never truly believed… _I have a brother. A flesh and blood brother who loved me._

As Legolas openly stared at her, as if trying to memorize every slope and curve of her face, a pang of guilt shot through her. _I already have a brother,_ she reminded herself, thinking of Fili. _And they've put him in a cage._

Thranduil gave her one last look.

"Yes," he said finally, then turned his back to her, making his way silently back to his throne where he sat in with a fluid motion. "It seems the Lost Princess has finally returned."

"The Lost Princess?" she asked. When Thranduil had said it, he'd made it sound like a title.

"There were rumors, after your death was announced to the realm," Legolas explained. "Someone claimed to have seen you spirited away in the night. The people began to call you the Lost Princess after your name was…discouraged to be spoken."

Her name discouraged to be spoken? She gazed up at the king. Had he wanted to forget her so badly that he'd told everyone she was dead, then forbade even her name to be uttered? No wonder everyone was so shocked.

Something deep inside Elwen ached. She had wanted so badly to believe that her father was a good man, that Elrond and Gandalf's worries were for naught. But here she stood in front of him, a seemingly heartless creature. _And the greatest enemy of those I have come to love most in this world._ Gandalf had told her she might not like what she would find in the forest, and he had been right. Thorin could forgive her heritage, of being Half-Elf, but he would not forgive this.

When Thranduil looked at her, there was no love in his gaze that she could see. That was when she decided that being angry was far better than the hopeless ache threatening to take her legs from beneath her.

"Your death was a simpler explanation than as to what truly took place," Thranduil said, his voice deep and unfeeling.

"What did happen, Father?" Legolas demanded, but he was dismissed.

"There will be time enough for questions now that Elwen is back within our boarders."

"Oh," Elwen said, crossing her arms. "I'm not staying."

Thranduil raised an eyebrow. _So, that's where I get it from._

"Oh?"

"As you are aware," she replied scathingly, "my friends and I are on a bit of a quest. We're also on a time limit, so if you could let us be on our way, that would be great."

Thranduil's face hardened, eyes narrowing.

"I have been preparing for your return for twenty-five years," the king drawled. "But I was not expecting you to be in the company of Dwarves. How did this alliance come to pass?"

Elwen felt her face grow hot with indignation. She didn't like the way he said _Dwarves_.

"That's none of your concern," she snapped. "You talk about them like they're dirt."

"They are beneath you," Thranduil spoke coldly. "You are a Princess of the Woodland Realm. I see now that you must be taught your place."

Elwen looked at the man sitting upon the throne and tried to reconcile the fact that this was the person who had sired her. There was no love in his eyes so like hers, and yet so different. She hoped that her eyes would never look so cold.

It was then she remembered Elrond's words to her. _You would have turned into someone you would not recognize had you been raised in his halls._ Suddenly, she felt as if she owed Elrond and Galadriel a great debt. They were right; had she been raised by this man, she would not be someone the Dwarves would be proud to know. And that meant more to her than anything.

"I didn't even know I was an Elf until a short while ago," she spat, venom dripping from every word. "I was raised human, an orphan, somewhere far away from here. These Dwarves, they welcomed me when I had nowhere to go and no idea who I was. One has claimed Kin's Rights. I am no more above them than you are."

Legolas rounded on her. "An orphan?" His face paled. "You never knew who you were?"

Elwen shook her head. "Not until I traveled to Rivendell with the company. The Lady of Lorien lifted the enchantment placed upon my memories twenty years ago, but much has been lost forever. Lord Elrond told me I might find answers in the Woodland Realm, but would say no more."

Legolas turned furiously to his father, a dark storm brewing in his eyes.

"Why was this done to my sister?" he demanded, and Elwen winced. It felt wrong, someone other than Fili calling her that. "Why wasn't I told?"

Elwen remembered what Beorn said about the Wood Elves being more dangerous than their kin. Seeing the wrathful look on Legolas' face, she believed it.

"You were not told," Thranduil replied evenly, "because I knew you would try to interfere with the White Council's decision. That could not be allowed, and so I let you and everyone else believe she was dead."

A sliver of emotion seeped into Thranduil's voice then. It was so little that she'd almost missed it. Had he let Legolas believe her dead in order to protect his son from doing something rash? And had this Elf, her brother, been so attached to her that he would have fought the White Council to keep her?

"But why did they send her away at all?" Legolas asked beseechingly. "Why did you allow it? There must be a reason."

Thranduil looked between herself and Legolas, and she saw what looked like a flash of pain cross his face.

"I was told you were meant for a greater future than I could offer," he said to her. His voice was a touch softer, quieter. "It was what your mother wished for you, and I could not refuse her." He paused for a moment. "You favor her."

The pain hit her like Dwalin's hammer, and she sucked in a sharp breath.

"I don't know anything about her," she admitted. "I don't even know her name."

She thought about telling Thranduil about the vision she'd had of a dark haired woman singing to her. Surely he would know if that had been her mother. Maybe he even knew what song she'd been singing. Had he sang to her too?

As quickly as the king had softened, his face closed once more. It was so fast, Elwen could practically hear a door slam between herself and her father.

"Tonight is the Festival of Stars," he said, his tone once more dull and emotionless. "I will tell you all you wish to know. A room will be prepared for you."

"What about Thorin and the others?" Elwen asked, hands on her hips.

Thranduil's eyebrows raised in surprise. "What about them?"

He had a thinned lip smile, and his eyes seemed to be daring her to defy him. _This guy clearly doesn't know me. And he is not my king._

Challenge accepted.

"Release them," she demanded. "Or put me in a cell."

Thranduil's face filled with such a rage that she could almost taste it in the air.

"You would rather be locked away with Dwarfish filth," he sneered, sitting straight as a board, "than to celebrate a sacred night with your own people."

"They _are_ my people!"

Elwen's words echoed throughout the chamber. When she peaked at her brother, he was looking at her with a mixture of wonder, fear, and a little hurt. She quickly looked away.

The cold fury in the King's eyes made Elwen go very still. It was the first time she'd felt true fear for her life since being escorted into the Woodland Realm. It occurred to her that this man, father or not, did not know her. He had no reason to love her, and he was potently powerful. For all she knew, Wood Elves killed their young when they became disobedient or rebellious.

She didn't look away, however. She kept her chin high, shoulders straight, and eyes on him. It was striking, how similar his eyes were to her own. But in the depths of King Thranduil's eyes was a hardness, a darkness that no light seemed to touch. She didn't need a mirror to know her eyes were not so haunted. _What happened to you,_ she wondered. _What wounded you so deeply?_

"You seem quite loyal to these Dwarves. Thorin Oakenshield in particular," Thranduil commented, once again lounging lazily in his carved throne.

Elwen stayed silent, sensing a trap. Legolas was looking at her curiously now. He had seen firsthand in the forest how loyal she was to the Dwarf king.

"He seemed very concerned with your safety," Thranduil prodded. "I hear tell that Dwarves are very protective of their women."

Elwen bristled. Their women, indeed.

"Thorin is loyal to those who put their trust in him. He is a great leader of his people."

"And you consider yourself among his people?"

Elwen knew what she _should_ say. She should be sucking up to the king, trying to keep her freedom and find a way to rescue the Dwarves. Or try to worm information out of him about her mother. Perhaps she should feel some kind of loyalty to the man who gave her life. But the only thing she knew about King Thranduil was that he had refused to aid the Dwarves, folk she had grown to love, in their most desperate hour. Yes, Elwen knew what she should say, as well as what she could not. _Even if it means throwing away a chance to know my blood._

"I am loyal to the Dwarves of Erebor. They are my family, and I will not abandon them for a man who gave me away as an infant without so much as a fight!"

The last bit came out much harsher than expected. _Maybe I've got some abandonment issues after all._

She wasn't sure what she expected Thranduil's reaction to be. To shout? To strike her? Something in that vain. That's why the smile that slithered across his face like a serpent unnerved her to the very core.

"Guards," he said lazily. "My daughter wishes to be reunited with her friends, so I will grant this wish."

He paused, and for a moment she dared to hope. She dared to believe that perhaps Thranduil wasn't the monster she'd had described to her.

"Put her in the cell with Thorin Oakenshield. Let her be reunited with her king."

Elwen's heart plummeted. She didn't struggle when a hand gripped her arm and began dragging her away.

"Stop!" Legolas shouted, and to Elwen's surprise, the guard obeyed. "Oakenshield despises you! What do you think will happen when he finds out who she is? That he has had your daughter with him this whole time?"

Legolas gave her a beseeching look, and her gut twisted. He was right; Thorin's hatred for Thranduil was so deep, so engrained with the terrible events that took place sixty years ago, she doubted he could set them aside, even for her. She was the daughter of his most hated enemy, and that is all he would see.

Thranduil knew all of this, of course. It was the only reason to let them be together. It wasn't a boon, but a punishment.

"Give her weapons back," Thranduil ordered, then leveled her with a look. "Let us see if Thorin Oakenshield will return your loyalty."

* * *

 **Authors Note:**

 **I am on a ROLL! I've been working really hard to be able to produce quicker for all of you. I have so many chapters planned that if I only produce a chapter or two a month, it would be well over a year before I'd finish this story and that just will not do. I've far too many other ideas to work on, so this needs to get finished.**

 **This is the moment many of you have been waiting for. I think some people have been more eager for Elwen to meet Thranduil than to see who she'll even end up with (if anyone.) I truly hope I did this moment justice. I was so nervous to post this because it seemed a few of you were REALLY looking forward to this. I hope it meets expectations!**

 **I am blown away by how many of you seem to be reading and enjoying this story. The story has 92 Followers and 62 Favorites, and I am just beyond grateful. I truly love writing Elwen's character and I am so glad that some of you have seemed to connect with her. Thank you so so so much for sticking with me and continuing to read about our feisty little Half-Elf.**

 **Special thanks to those who take the time to review! Hearing from you is really amazing, and I truly appreciate the dialogue. I love hearing your thoughts and theories! Please consider leaving a review, even if it's just a quick hello. Would love hearing from you. I think I'm going to start asking a question at the end of every chapter for people to answer in the reviews. Maybe some people are shy and just need some encouragement to interact!**

 **First question: How do you think Thorin will react once he finds out Elwen is the daughter of King Thranduil?**

 **MissCallaLilly: Thank you so much! I truly hope it meets your expectations! Drop me a line and let me know what you think!**

 **TheAngelthatfellromHeaven: Thank you so much dearie! Welcome to the story. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and continue to read and review! You are truly appreciated!**

 **Juliebigjewlzbrowning: I'm afraid I don't quite understand your question, love. This is an on-going story, and I've been updating fairly frequently as of late. Could you be more specific in your question?**

 **Carre: Thank you once again, lovely! I enjoy your comments so much! 1. I hate spiders as well! Creepy crawly evil buggers with butt ropes. Hate them so much! 2. YES! That scene definitely sets up for their attitudes toward one another in LOTR! 3. That is SO interesting! I'm definitely going to be using some form of this swear. Can you tell me how to pronounce it your language correctly (Swedish, right?)? When I learn a swear in a language other than English, I like to say it in that language haha. . 4. I really hope you like the chapter and that it meets expectations! And kronjuveler! I'm using that someday haha. Your reviews are wonderful and educational!**

 **One again, thank you all so very much. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I think the next chapter will also house a moment you've all been waiting for, but no spoilers!**

 **Cheers,**

 **L**


	22. Chapter 22 Enough

**Chapter 22 Enough**

Elwen was quiet as the guard led her down into the depths of the Woodland Realm. Her eyes darted around, taking in the wild beauty surrounding her. The entire structure was built from the stone and roots of the earth. It was a different beauty than Rivendell, far more her taste. It made sense. This was her father's realm, after all.

Walking through those halls should have felt like coming home, but it didn't. It wasn't home and it doubtfully ever would be.

When they reached the dungeon, the Dwarves began calling to her loudly. They heckled the guard, which probably wasn't the best idea, but she couldn't help but smile.

The Elf opened the cell door and before she walked inside, he handed her the weapons they had confiscated. She thanked him quietly and he closed the door. Before he walked away, he placed his hand above his heart and bowed.

" _Aranel_." Princess.

Elwen blinked at him as he turned his back and walked away.

Thorin sprang to his feet from his place on the floor and was by her side in an instant.

"Are you hurt?" he asked. His hands ghosted over her arms, eyes searching for even the smallest scratch.

"I'm alright," she said, though it was far from the truth.

She smiled and reached out to pull a few strands of lingering spider web from his hair. He caught her hand, pressing a kiss to the palm. She tried hard not to flinch, to enjoy his warmth. _Because when he finds out who I am, he'll never touch me again._

Her smile didn't fool Thorin. His brow furrowed, but the rest of the company had begun to earnestly call for her attention, and she knew she'd get no peace until she spoke with them. She pressed her face against the bars.

"Will you lot shut your bloody holes?!" she yelled over the din. "They clearly didn't chop me into bits and have me for supper!"

"Did you hit them with sticks until they locked you up with us?" Kili asked teasingly, but she could hear the relief in his voice. He must have been beside himself. She would have been, had the situation been reversed.

"Shup it, Kili!" Fili shouted, then added, "They found all my weapons, Elwen."

"Even the knife?"

Fili heaved a great sigh, and she laughed.

"You're going to have to teach me how to hide so many weapons," she said.

"Gladly, little sister mine," he replied, and she could tell he was smiling.

Once more, Elwen's heart ached. What would Legolas think about a Dwarf calling her sister when he'd been denied that for twenty-five years?

"I told them those Elves wouldn't want to tangle with a wild cat like you," came Dwalin's gruff voice.

"Tough as Dwarf nails indeed," said Bofur fondly.

Elwen felt warmth spread through her chest for the first time since being in the presence of King Thranduil. The company truly had been worried for her. They cared about her just as much as she cared about them, and she was sure they had raised all holy hell when she'd not come back with Thorin. No matter the consequences, she knew she'd done the right thing by choosing them, choosing to honor the commitment she'd made to her friends. Now she could only hope and believe that they would choose her as well.

"Have any of you figured out a way to get us out of here?" Elwen asked.

"I'm afraid not," Balin said heavily. "A deal was our only hope."

"Not our only hope," Thorin said. Elwen turned back to him. "They did not capture us all." He kept his voice low, well aware of the superior hearing of Elves.

Elwen's eyes widened. In all the commotion, Elwen had forgotten about Bilbo! He was quick and clever, which gave her faith that she wouldn't have to spend too much time locked in a cell.

Thorin looked at the weapons cradled in her arms.

"Why did they return these?" he asked, taking her swords from her and leaning them against a wall.

Elwen bit her lip. For a moment, she considered not telling him anything. If Bilbo came quickly and they could get away, there would be no need for him to ever know. They could continue on their quest, reclaim the mountain, and she would never set foot back in the Woodland Realm.

Legolas' face flashed in front of her eyes. The grief in his voice…that had been real. Legolas may have no love for Dwarves, but she had a sneaking suspicion he would find his way to Erebor before too long. And she couldn't lie and say she did not want to know him.

She looked down at the remaining weapons in her hands. She sighed and leaned them carefully against the wall beside her swords. She wanted Thorin to see with his own eyes that she trusted him not to be the person Thranduil thought him to be.

She had to tell him. If she lied now, the trust Thorin had in her would be broken forever.

"You know that I was born here," she began. She did her best to keep her voice steady. "Elrond told me as much in Rivendell."

"I remember," Thorin said.

Elwen tried to calm herself with a deep breath. She balled her hands into fists so they wouldn't shake, and plowed forward.

"Thranduil is angry that I have pledged my allegiance to the Dwarves of Erebor and that it is my intention to see this quest through to the end," she explained in a rush. "He gave my weapons back because he believed you would attack me when you found out that…that…"

She repeated the words over and over inside her head. _If you found out he is my father._ But when she opened her mouth, the words wouldn't come. Her insides churned as if she would be sick, and she had never felt like such a coward in her life. When she tried to speak once more, only a strangled sob spilled out.

She couldn't do it, but she had to.

When she tried again, Thorin hushed her and gathered her into his arms.

It was just like that starry night in Rivendell, and Elwen did not want the moment to end. She wrapped her arms around him and laid her head on his shoulder.

She couldn't stay silent forever, she knew that. But if speaking would change everything, if Thorin turned her away as she feared…

 _Let me enjoy this for a little while. Just a moment to be us, before we are strangers once more._

"Thranduil is a fool," Thorin murmured, his voice a rumble beneath her ear. "To think I would ever harm you. He does not understand that you are more precious to me than life itself."

Elwen pulled away slowly and met his eyes. Her lips parted, her eyes wide. Thorin's brow furrowed.

"Do you doubt me?" he asked, hurt. "Have I not shown you I care not that you are Elf kind?"

She blinked back the tears threatening to spill.

"You will care," she whispered. "You will when I tell you what I am. _Who_ I am. Thorin, I didn't-"

"Don't tell me, then," he said. Elwen paused.

"But it's important."

"Not to me." Thorin's fingers brushed her cheek, and he pressed his forehead gently to hers and took a ragged breath. "I am in love with you," he rasped. "You are my One."

Elwen once again felt as though she were weightless. This time, instead of plummeting into the void, she was gliding to the stars.

She felt that if someone were to walk into the cell right then and cut her down, she would die smiling.

"I love you, Thorin. I feel you in my very soul," she said, taking in every peak and plain of his face. The way it changed when a smile brighter than her favorite star spread across his handsome face.

He pulled her flush against him, hands moving to her face. Their lips were only inches apart, and when their eyes met, it was then she realized that he must know. The way the Elves had reacted to her in the forest, being taken to the king. Her eyes…Thorin must have guessed. Could it be that he honestly didn't care?

She decided that while he held her in his arms, none of it mattered. Whether or not he knew, he'd told her not to tell him. He said he didn't care. She was going to trust his word.

Thorin leaned forward and Elwen's eyes slid closed. _Finally_.

And then there was no more space between them. No more holding back. Every reservation vanished, every fear vanquished. She felt her mind clear as if a giant had taken a deep breath and blown away all the fog.

The realization hit Elwen with the force of a war hammer. With the touch of his lips and the knowledge of his love, the path she had been set upon finally came into focus. She finally knew why Elrond and the White Council had sent her so very far away, and why Gandalf had been sent to retrieve her. _My memories, my visions…I finally understand._

Elwen Greenleaf finally knew her place and purpose in the story she had stumbled headfirst into. She finally knew why. _Love. And it is enough,_ she thought, leaning further into Thorin. _It is more than enough._

* * *

As Captain of the Guard, it was Tauriel's duty to check on the prisoners below. Her friends did not want her to leave the festivities, but she was not the type to order subordinates to do her work while she enjoyed herself.

After reporting to the king, she didn't feel much like celebrating anyway. He had been displeased with the spiders' return, but would hear no argument when it came to destroying them at their source. Dol Guldur was beyond their borders, and other lands were not his concern. And then he had touched upon the one subject Tauriel had hoped to forever avoid…

Tauriel was not ignorant of Legolas' affections. His eyes had begun to linger far too long when he thought she did not see. The king made it clear that such a match would not be permitted, and she had been as relieved as she was anguished.

And so while the celebration roared upstairs, she found herself in the dungeons with Dwarves.

Had events played out differently, the court would have been taking part in an additional celebration. Elwen Greenleaf had seemingly returned to them from the dead. The Lost Princess had been found. There should be a feast in her honor and revelries that would last months. The king should be overjoyed to have both of his children with him, hale and whole, for the first time in twenty-five years.

Instead, Princess Elwen was locked in a cell with Thorin Oakenshield. She had openly defied the king in front of witnesses. She had chosen the Dwarves over her own people, and Thranduil was not a forgiving ruler.

Tauriel knew she should be appalled by the princess' choices, but she was not. _We are not her people,_ Tauriel thought, looking into the cells to check on the prisoners. She had been raised apart from her own kind and had believed she was alone. She had at first claimed to hail from Lord Elrond's domain, but that wasn't quite right. Perhaps that is where she was sent as a babe, but it was not where she stayed.

When Tauriel peered into the cell housing Thorin Oakenshield and the princess, she saw them sitting on the floor close to the back. Princess Elwen was folded into Oakenshield's arms as if she were made for them. They were speaking lowly together, totally unaware of her presence, and she did not want to disturb them.

It was easy to see the love that was between these two. It was a love that defied tradition and law, but it was love all the same and could not be denied. No wonder she had defied Thranduil. Tauriel could not say she would not forsake all for a chance at that kind of happiness.

Either Thorin's love for the princess was so strong that her parentage meant little, or she had not told him. For Elwen's sake, Tauriel hoped it was the former. Legolas had made quick work threatening the guards, letting them know that if Oakenshield found out from their lips who Elwen really was, that Legolas would make sure they disappeared without a trace.

It was a gesture that had not been necessary. None of her soldiers would have betrayed Elwen. When the news spread that the little princess had died of the same illness that had taken her mother, the entire realm went into deep mourning. Children were so rare, so cherished, that the loss of such innocence was always the ultimate tragedy. And for it to be the daughter of the king…

Thranduil had not been the same since the loss of his second wife and child. A darkness had settled upon his mind, a hardness encased him that not even Legolas could soften. Losing a mate was so painful, so dreadful, that the one left behind often died of a broken heart.

Thranduil had survived the death of Legolas' mother, but when he found love again in a mortal woman, the realm had been beyond stunned. It was so rare for an Elf to take a second mate, Tauriel had heard of it happening only one other time in the entire history of her people. But find love he did, and eventually everyone came to care for the woman Thranduil had taken to bride. Even Legolas had not been immune to her quick wit and charm.

And when she had given birth to a beautiful baby girl, the entire realm rejoiced, but none more than the king and prince. And when the girl and her mother were gone, none mourned as deeply.

Now Princess Elwen has returned, but with a gaggle of Dwarves in tow.

Seeing the princess and Oakenshield together brought other questions to mind. The young dark haired Dwarf who had been worried about Elwen to the point of desperation; Tauriel wondered if Princess Elwen knew this boy was in love with her.

She paused in front of his cell. She'd heard someone call him Kili when they were still in Mirkwood. He was sitting on the floor, his face a mask of boredom. He was inspecting a dark, shiny stone, flipping it in the air and catching it on the back of his hand.

Tauriel was annoyed. The guards should have taken that.

"The stone in your hand," she asked. "What is it?"

"It is a talisman," he replied, his voice serious. Tauriel looked at him curiously. "A powerful spell lies upon it. If any but a Dwarf reads the runes on the stone…" he shook his head. "They will be forever cursed!"

He thrusted the stone toward the bars, causing Tauriel to take an involuntary step back. Annoyed, she began to walk away, wondering why she bothered with these creatures, when he spoke again.

"Or not," he said.

Tauriel paused at his teasing tone.

"Depending on whether you believe that kind of thing. It's just a token."

When he smiled, Tauriel could not help smiling in return.

"A rune stone," he explained, turning it over in his hand and gazing at it as if it were something precious. "My mother gave it to me so I'd remember my promise."

Tauriel moved closer to the bars. "What promise?" she asked despite herself. She knew she shouldn't indulge the boy with conversation, but she could not help it.

"That I would come back to her."

The way he said it made Tauriel wonder if he was not beginning to doubt his ability to keep such a pledge.

"She worries." He continued tossing the stone. "She thinks I'm reckless."

"Are you?" asked Tauriel.

"Nah," he said smiling, but this time when he tossed his stone, he missed.

Tauriel quickly stopped the stone from rolling off into the pit outside of the cells. She picked it up and examined the stone, wondering what the runes meant.

Laughter could be heard in the distance, and when the Dwarf spoke, she found he was now standing at the bars of his cell door.

"Sounds like quite a party you're having up there."

"It is Mereth Nuin Giliath," she replied. " _The Feast of Starlight_." She moved away and stared up longingly, wishing she could see the night sky. "All light is sacred to the Eldar, but Wood Elves love best the light of the stars."

"That makes sense," said Kili. "It helps me understand Elwen a bit better, in any case. She tends to get lost in the stars quite a bit."

Tauriel looked at Kili, startled. "Then you know she is of our people?"

"It is her story to tell," he said, then nodded hesitantly, "but yes, we know her father is a Wood Elf of high regard. She's no memory of him, though."

 _No_ , Tauriel thought sadly. _She wouldn't have any memories of him at all._

"Her eyes," Kili said quietly. "They've always reminded me of starlight." He looked at Tauriel then, embarrassed.

"You seem to care for her a great deal," her voice was soft, remembering more that the young princess would not recall.

Tauriel remembered watching Legolas dote on his infant sister. From the moment he had laid eyes on the squalling, red faced babe, he was besotted. Tauriel was so sure no one would ever love her as well as her brother.

Every moment the babe was not with her mother and father, she was with Legolas. He would carry her through the woods in a sling made of the softest fabric, snug against his chest, and he would tell her stories he knew she would not recall, but they seemed to make her happy. The little princess had brought the prince back to life after the death of his mother. And then he lost her, too.

 _And now she calls someone else brother and is loved just as well by these Dwarves._

Tauriel knew Legolas well enough to know he would begrudge his sister no love. He was likely to feel indebted to anyone who had offered his sister protection for all these years. But she also knew his heart was breaking, for his sister was back from the dead, and she was a stranger.

Kili smiled sadly in reply, and she could plainly see Legolas' heart was not the only one hurting this night. The girl Kili spoke of with so much love and devotion was in the arms of another.

"I always thought it is a cold light," the Dwarf said quietly. "Remote and far away."

Tauriel looked him incredulously. She wasn't sure if he were speaking of starlight, or the color of a certain young woman's eyes.

"It is memory," she said earnestly. "Precious and pure. Like your promise." She held out the stone and he took it.

She glanced around, making sure none were listening in the shadows. A conversation between the Captain of the Guard and a Dwarf prisoner might seem inappropriate to some, and she would loath for word of it to reach the king.

Tauriel turned back to Kili with a sly smile.

"I have walked there sometimes," she said conspiratorially. "Beyond the forest and up into the night." In her mind's eye, Tauriel could see the sky stretching beyond the horizon, the stars winking to life. "I have seen the world fall away. And the white light of forever fill the air."

"I saw a fire moon once," Kili replied. Tauriel turned toward him and saw him smiling. "It rose over the pass near Dunland. Huge! Red and gold, it was. It filled the sky."

Tauriel sat on the stairs outside the cell, caught up in his description.

"We were an escort for some merchants from Ered Luin. They were trading in silverwork for furs. We took the Greenway south, keeping the mountain to our left. And then it appeared. This huge fire moon lighting our path. I wish I could show you the caverns…"

She found herself very much wishing he could show her these caverns, and everywhere else he described.

Tauriel wasn't sure how long she sat there, speaking with Kili about fire moons and starlight. The only thing she knew was that she could not think of any other place she would rather spend the Feast of Stars.

* * *

Thorin was unsure how long they had been in the cells. They were deep inside the Woodland Realm, far beyond the light of sun or moon, but if he had to guess, he would say night had fallen.

He looked down and smiled at the woman resting in his arms. He brushed a piece of hair away from her forehead and saw her brows were drawn together and her mouth was tight. He frowned, wondering what dreams were troubling her so. She looked as she did when facing down an enemy, and he wished to fight beside her even in the confines of her own mind.

Mahal, she was beautiful and so fierce, even as she slept. His heart ached with want. He resisted waking her with a kiss, knowing it was important for her to sleep while she could. They'd had little rest since Beorn's house, and the woods had drained them all.

Thorin didn't want to think about the forest. He didn't want to think about how the enchantment had seeped into his skin like poison and made him sluggish. How it had caused him to lead the company away from the path. And he especially did not want to think about how Elwen had looked standing before him, hands covered in her own blood with his arrow buried deep in her center.

He held her a little closer, pushing the image from his mind. It had only been an illusion; he should have sensed it immediately. The thought of harming his One made him physically ill. It was an inconceivable atrocity, which was why Thranduil thinking he would harm her was the ultimate insult.

No Dwarf man would lay a hand on a woman, nevertheless their One. There were few crimes under Dwarven law that carried the penalty of death. Murder in cold blood and treason to the crown would carry the penalty of beheading. But to physical harm or violate a woman? The death would not be so quick.

As he looked at Elwen, Thorin knew he would die before he'd ever lay a hand on her in anger. She was where his soul had found refuge. She was a warrior and he knew he could not always keep her from the battlefield, but he would try. On his honor, he would do everything he could to keep her safe and happy for as long as he drew breath.

He closed his eyes and let the memory of their kiss banish the dark thoughts. They had taken advantage of their solitude, finally together without interruption. He took his time memorizing the curve of her lips and taste of her mouth. She felt like cool silk and tasted like a crisp spring morning and a sky full of stars all at once.

At one point they had slid to the floor and he'd pulled her into his lap. He buried his hands in her hair and become lost in her touch. Thorin had never been so enraptured by another before, had never known such passion. He realized he had never felt such _want_ , not until Elwen. Lust he understood, but what he felt for Elwen was so much more. He wanted to capture her in the way she had captured him, body and soul. Course hands and found the soft skin of her neck, and when their eyes met, he knew her desire burned just as bright.

"Let me braid your hair," he had breathed against her neck.

"A courting braid?" she asked, startled.

He pulled back and saw the look that flashed across her face. Fear, perhaps a little regret.

"Elwen, if this isn't what you want-"

"Of course it's what I want, you ninny," she said, but her eyes were troubled. "Thorin, I know you told me you didn't care, to not tell you…but you deserve to know before you braid my hair."

Thorin touched her cheek gently. He decided he should voice his suspicions, hoping to somehow put her mind at ease.

"I know that you are somehow connected to that Elf from the woods," he said softly. "He knew you once you gave your name."

Elwen's eyes widened, and he knew he was right.

"Elwen, I don't care," he repeated his earlier sentiment. "So your family is possibly connected to the kind and his guard? It matters not. You made your choice."

Elwen blinked as if she were holding back tears.

"You don't understand," she whispered. "It's so much more complicated than that. Thorin, I am…he's…"

Thorin cut her off with a swift, searing kiss. Whatever it was, if the fear of his reaction was truly enough to shake this unshakable warrior before him, then he didn't need to know. He could think of nothing that would make sway his feelings for her.

"Don't," he whispered. "If it disturbs you so, then do not speak of it. I don't need to know, not now. Someday, when you are certain of my lasting love, you will tell me all."

She opened her mouth to protest, but he silenced her with a finger to her red, well kissed lips. If it were truly as terrible as she thought, he didn't want to hear it. Not yet, not now.

"I don't care where you come from, Elwen. Only who you are."

Her tearful eyes looked like the moon reflected in a pool of still water.

"I'm afraid," she whispered, and he sucked in a breath. Elwen Greenleaf was not one to admit to fear even when she felt it, and he knew it cost her to make such an admission. "I'm afraid that when I tell you, that you won't want me."

She sniffed, clearly exasperated with herself for crying. He couldn't help but smile.

He pressed his lips to hers once more, for he could not help it. She pulled him closer and returned the kiss with fervor and her taste flooded his mouth. When they parted, he held her chin so she could not look away.

"It is impossible not to want you, my love," he said lowly. "I have never been so sure of anything in all my years. You are in my very soul, and I love you. Let me braid your hair, Elwen. Let me make you mine."

A full smile bloomed across her face with all the brilliance of the sun.

"Do I get to make you mine as well?" she asked, smirking.

This was one of the many things he loved about Elwen; her unwillingness to submit. She would never pledge herself to someone if they were not to be equals. She would never let him shield her, but instead would stand beside him to face whatever was to come.

"Oh Elwen," he breathed. "I have always been yours."

Elwen had fallen asleep while he made his braid. She'd purred like a house cat before dozing off, and Thorin made a mental note to remember this, thinking it might come in handy when they were wed. When the braid was finished, he removed a bead from his own hair to fasten it into place. He had gently gathered her closely and let her sleep.

He didn't wonder what it had been that Elwen was so afraid to tell him. If the knowledge of her past came from Thranduil, Thorin did not trust it. He had no qualms with using trickery to achieve his ends, and it seemed that what Elven king wanted was to turn Thorin against Elwen. It was not a notion Thorin would entertain.

Elwen stirred, her eyelashes fluttering and she smiled sleepily. Thorin smiled back, but paused a moment, taking in the color of her eyes.

Her eyes were truly striking and beautiful, seemingly silver until you looked closely. Pools of pale blue so pure they looked like polish stones from the mines of the mountain placed there by Mahal himself. He recalled their first meeting in the home of Bilbo Baggins, and how he thought her eyes seemed familiar. They still seemed familiar, but he couldn't quite place where he'd seem them before.

He placed a kiss on her brow, deciding it didn't matter, choosing to ignore the unsettling feeling that had washed over him. Many Elves had strange colored eyes.

"Did you sleep?" she asked, stretching her muscle till her back cracked. She sighed in relief, and he was glad when she wiggled back into his arms to find a comfortable position.

"I will find no rest in this place," he said, pulling her closer. "But you should rest a while longer. You were exhausted."

"Fighting giant spiders in a haunted forest will do that to you," she said wryly. "Alas, I'm awake now." She paused and glanced around, frowning. "I wonder how far underground we are. I wish there were windows."

She ran a hand through her hair and paused when her fingers found the braid. "Oh," she breathed, her fingers exploring its shape and length.

"Do you like it?" Thorin asked, feeling unnaturally anxious. Obviously he had never given someone a courting braid before and worried about what she would think.

"I'm sure it's lovely," she beamed. "I can't wait to see it. Do you get a braid too?"

"Aye," he said. "On our wedding day."

Elwen stilled like a hunted deer and went stiff as death. He pulled back a little to see her face, and her eyes were big as a dinner plate.

"Wedding day," she repeated. "Like, as in getting married?" Her voice was strangely high pitched.

It was the first time Thorin had ever seen Elwen so flummoxed. He might have laughed if it weren't marriage they were speaking of, and matrimony was no laughing matter.

"You remember when I told you about Dwarfish courting?" he questioned. "We do not give a woman a courting braid without the intention to marry."

"Well, yeah," she stammered, "but I didn't know it was tantamount to a proposal!"

Thorin's brows furrowed.

"What did you think it meant?"

She glanced at him, hearing the near laughter in his voice. He couldn't help it; he found he rather liked seeing her so off kilter. Her eyes narrowed.

"I thought we'd court a while," she explained grumpily. "Gloin said his wife made him court her for six months before she agreed to marry!"

"You misunderstand," Thorin laughed outright. "When Gloin placed the braid in his wife's hair, she agreed then to wed. She simply refused to set a time for the ceremony until Gloin agreed to wash his own socks."

Elwen blinked. "Are you kidding me?"

"I would never joke about Gloin's socks," Thorin said seriously. "I would have refused to marry him on that account as well. They smell like an Orc."

Elwen swatted his arm, but the worry did not fade from her eyes.

"Elwen," he said gently, touching her chin and turning her toward him. All humor was gone. "Do you not wish to wed? I…I will understand if…"

He couldn't finish the sentence. He would never force her into anything she didn't want, but he wished to understand why. If she loved him as she claimed, why did marrying him seem like such an imposition?

"That isn't it," Elwen said quickly. "But Thorin…I was raised to believe I had no family. That I was no one. Now I know differently but…" she bit her lip and shook her head. "You're a king. You were raised knowing that you would one day rule. You have no idea what it's like to be no one, and then to suddenly be expected to be _someone_. I'm not sure I'm ready for that kind of responsibility."

Thorin started, for he found that he could not argue.

Even after Smaug attacked Erebor and stole his kingdom, Thorin had retained his identity, his title, as he and his people began a new life in the Blue Mountains. He was still their leader and it had been up to him to see to the needs of Durin's folk. He had shouldered that responsibility from the day of his birth, and gladly. But it was hard, and there were times when the pressure seemed too much. _And here I am, asking Elwen to be a queen._

"I know what I'm asking is no small affair," he said, aware of the understatement. "To be honest, I am unsure how my people will react to an Elven-"

"Half-Elven," she corrected, and he chuckled.

"Half-Elven," he amended. "I am unsure how they will react to a Half-Elven queen. It is something the Dwarves will come to accept. They must; you are my One. There can be no other."

Elwen met his eyes steadily, as if searching for something. Finally, she heaved a heavy sigh.

"How long would you wait to be married?" she asked. He could see she was looking for a concession from him, and he could not deny her time to get used to the idea.

"After we reclaim Erebor, it will take time or our kin to arrive from the Blue Mountains," he replied, scratching his beard, doing the figures. "It would not be an easy journey, and could take up to half a year for everyone to arrive."

"And how soon would you want to wed, given the choice?"

"Balin is more than capable of performing the ceremony."

Elwen choked, and he laughed heartily until she swatted him.

"Don't worry, love," he reassured her once she settled down, still chuckling to himself. "We can take our time, if you want."

"I want," she grumbled.

Thorin ignored the pang in his chest. He'd meant what he said; he would marry her that very moment if she would have him. That Elwen was so hesitant to tie herself to him stung. He knew logically that courting was very different where she came from. Hadn't she said many couples were together for years before marrying? Surely she wouldn't expect him to wait that long? But he could wait, at least until his people returned from the Blue Mountains. He understood her need to grow accustomed to being _someone_.

 _She will be a great queen,_ he thought. She had the baring for it; equal part warrior and lady, stern and kind. The people would come to love her once they knew her. Just as she did. Just as…

"Kili," Thorin whispered.

The weight of his confession of feeling came crashing down, sudden and heavy. Elwen wore the evidence of their love in her hair. Every Dwarf alive would know that she had been claimed.

Elwen jerked to attention, her face aghast.

"I hadn't thought…" she started, sounding choked.

"I hadn't either," he replied guiltily. Elwen rubbed her eyes and Thorin knew she was close to tears.

Suddenly, Thorin wondered if she had another reason for being hesitant about marriage.

"Elwen," he swallowed. "Your feelings for Kili…they aren't entirely of friendship."

It wasn't a question, but it cut him to the quick when she didn't deny it.

"It's complicated," she said, looking down at her folded hands.

"These matters often are," he made sure to keep his voice gentle. She needed her to know he wasn't angry with her.

Thorin would have had to be a fool not to see the bond that had formed between Elwen and Kili. His nephew had made no secret of his feelings in word or deed. He'd all but said the words to Thorin their first night in Rivendell, and he had proven them with action every day since.

Elwen's feelings, however, were far more difficult to figure. The two had an easy friendship, far easier than his relationship had been with her thus far. It was natural, as if they had been forged from the same steel. Every now and then, Thorin caught her watching Kili almost wistfully, and he'd wondered…

Now he knew.

"Do you love him?" Thorin asked, despite not truly wanting to know.

Elwen was quiet for a long time. She looked out through the bars of their cell and toward where Kili was locked away. Her eyes were sad and far away, and when she turned back to him, the look on her face broke his heart.

"I love you," she said simply. "It's all I know. Is it enough?"

Thorin pulled her closely, pressing his forehead to hers.

"It is more than enough," he whispered, "and it always will be."

* * *

 **Authors Note:**

 **Oh my goodness, it is truly the moment everyone has been waiting for, including me! I've had this chapter written for so long and have been eagerly anticipating being able to share it with all of you! This chapter has been written and re-written so many times because I needed it to be exactly what I pictured in my mind. It's all downhill from here, folks. I hope you're ready for an extremely bumpy ride.**

 **Once again, a huge thank you to everyone who has been added this story to their favorites and follow lists. I can't express how grateful I am to know people are enjoying this story so much! It really gives me the confidence to keep producing!**

 **I really want to encourage you to leave a review. One of my favorite parts of writing fanfiction is interacting with readers! Thank you to all who take the time to review and engage in a dialog with me.**

 **Questions for the chapter: Are you glad that Thorin and Elwen have finally confessed their feelings to one another? Do you think Elwen has made a mistake in not revealing her parentage to him immediately? How do you think Kili is going to handle the news? And where do you see the story going from here?**

 **I'd love to hear your thoughts!**

 **Exberrysilver: Thank you so much for the review and read! I am really glad you're enjoying the story! I hope you liked this chapter!**

 **SunySides: Thorin may know deep down, but he's definitely not in a place where he's able to admit it to himself. I guess we'll just have to see what happens between the two when shit hits the fan! And as for Kili, I can make 0 promises when it comes to this story haha. Every Dwarf for himself!**

 **TheAngelthatfellfromHeaven: Thank you so much! I hope everything goes well for her too, but we'll just have to see. And thank you!**

 **MissCallaLilly: I hope you enjoyed the chapter and thanks so much for the review! I hope the way the reveal eventually happens doesn't disappoint.**

 **Pallysd'Artagnan: Well, the moment you have feared has come to pass. Poor Kili, I really do feel bad for what I'm about to put him through. Keep sticking with me though, and I promise I have good things in store for our boy.**

 **Carre: 1. Oh, this thing between Thranduil and Elwen is far from over. You will definitely be seeing the kind once again before long. I also have a bad feeling about this haha. 2. I'll definitely utilize YouTube! That's how I've been trying to teach myself Japanese, that an an app called DuoLingo. It works pretty well. 3. I've never heard of those books but I will definitely keep them in mind! Thank you! 4. Thank you! I hope you enjoy this one!**

 **Wolfimus Prime: Thank you for the review! I'm very glad you're enjoying the story. Hope you liked this chapter!**


	23. Chapter 23 Barrel Riders

Chapter 23 **Barrel Riders**

Had someone told Bilbo Baggins six months past about the places he would go and the risks he would take on his journey with the Dwarves, he'd have laughed in their face. Fighting trolls, Orcs, and giant spiders. Going to Rivendell to meet the Elves and being a guest in the house of the last Skin-changer. He'd thought topping any of those things would be impossible.

That was until he snuck into the Woodland Realm.

 _Even if it isn't the most reckless thing I've done so far,_ he thought wryly, _it's definitely the most foolish._

Around every corner was another guard armed to the teeth and poised to strike. The Wood Elves seemed to protect their home with an unmatched ferocity, and he knew that if he were caught…well, King Thranduil didn't seem like the most merciful of rulers. He had been coldly cruel and detached in a way that was difficult for the Hobbit to understand.

 _Can he truly be Elwen's father?_ How could such a kind, vibrantly spirited woman come from a being that seemed to be carved from stone?

Bilbo had stayed with Elwen after Thorin had been dragged down to the cells kicking and screaming. He hadn't known what the Elves had wanted with her, and refused to leave her side, even if his presence was unknown. By the end of their conversation, however, Bilbo mightily regretted his decision.

Watching the devastation flash across Elwen's face had made him need to turn away. She had come so far and fought so hard, only to be greeted by a heartless king. And Thorin's greatest enemy.

Bilbo shook his head as he wound his way down into what appeared to be a cellar of some sort.

Bilbo would have to be blind, and an idiot to boot, not to see the affection that had blossomed between Thorin and Elwen. It had been a hard won affection, neither of the pair sure of themselves in this regard. But it was plain to everyone with eyes to see; Thorin and Elwen were in love. And the knowledge of her parentage could destroy everything.

He knew the Dwarves loved Elwen and would lay down their lives for her, each and every one. But would they feel the same when they found out who she was? And they _would_ find out eventually, there was no doubt of that. Whether or not Elwen took a chance and told them now or kept quiet, it would come to light sooner or later. This wasn't the type of secret that could stay buried. Elwen was a Princess of the Woodland Realm. She had a father and a brother and _people_.

 _The Lost Princess_ , he thought. _Well, she's found now, and there's no un-ringing that bell._

Invisible, Bilbo managed to make his way down a set of stairs and into what apparently was a wine cellar. He made sure to stay clear of the Elves moving barrels to and fro. One Elf took a deep drink from a large flagon, and Bilbo's eyes were drawn to the shiny ring of keys in his hand.

"We're running out of drink," said one of the Elves.

"These empty barrels should have been sent back to Esgaroth hours ago. The bargeman will be waiting for them."

"Say what you like about our ill-tempered king," said another Elf. "But he has excellent taste in wine. Come, Elros, try it."

The Elf in question, Elros, shook his head. "I have the Dwarves in my charge."

Elros' companion plucked the keys from his fingers and hung them on a hook.

"They're locked up; where can they go?"

Bilbo eyed the hanging keys, plans already formulating. Perhaps all hope was not quite as lost as it had seemed.

* * *

Eventually Tauriel said her goodbyes, and Kili was once again alone with only his thoughts as a cellmate. He palmed the stone his mother had given him and thought back to the day they had left on their journey to the Lonely Mountain. Their mother had fought their departure nearly to the very end. Kili sighed when he remembered his mother's words to her brother.

"They aren't going," she'd snapped, her face mere inches from Thorin's. He had sighed in exasperation.

"Fili is of age, it's his choice," Thorin replied coolly. "As for Kili, I very much doubt he will tolerate being left behind. Dis," Thorin's voice softened, "this is a chance to reclaim what was stolen from us. Fili and Kili are two of our best fighters. I need them."

Dis had fire in her bright blue eyes.

"I remember similar words," she spat. "Spoken by Thror when he wished to reclaim Khazad-dum. My husband marched with you then, and you brought him home to me in a casket. And now you want my sons?"

Fili and Kili had walked away from the conversation at that point to let them hash it out, unwilling to hear anymore. They couldn't stand the agony in their mother's voice, knowing it wasn't enough to change their minds.

They weren't sure what happened between the siblings, but their mother was there to see them off when time came to go. She had sniffed indignantly, clearly cross that she couldn't keep herself from crying. She hated anything she couldn't control, including her own tears.

"That brother of mine," she growled, fussing over Kili's cloak. "Don't know who he thinks he is, demanding both of my boys accompany him on this mad venture."

"The rightful king?" Fili hedged, earning him a slap to the ear.

"I wouldn't care if he were King of all Middle-earth."

Kili had rolled his eyes.

"Stop your fussing, Ma," he'd whined. "I'm plenty old enough for this. I'll be a Prince of Erebor; it's my duty to reclaim our kingdom. I want you to be able to go home."

"Home," Dis scoffed. "Home is wherever you are with those you cherish most. I don't care about some dusty old dragon infested mountain. That's your uncle's wish. I only care about what I have before me right now."

Dis had looked back and forth between her sons, clearly seeing the determination on their features as her own defeat.

"I don't suppose I can forbid you to go," she'd said, her voice heavy.

Kili inwardly flinched when he saw the sadness in her eyes.

"I want to see the world, Ma," he said softly, beseeching her to understand. "This might be my only chance."

"I know, I know," she patted his cheek. "And I won't keep you from the world. Maybe it'll do you some good, make you more cautious."

Kili had smiled sheepishly. That was when his mother had pressed the stone into his hand.

"My boy," she said with a shaky voice so unlike her. "You will see the world is vast, and Erebor is only a small pocket of something far larger than you can even begin to imagine. I don't think you'll ever be satisfied staying in one place once you know what's out there. Perhaps I let you run too wild. But no matter how far you go, remember I'll always be your mother. Keep this as a reminder, and come back to me. Both of you."

Sitting trapped in that cell, Kili was beginning to think maybe his mother had a point. Maybe he was a bit reckless, even with his promises. He shouldn't make promises that he wasn't sure he could keep.

It was the uneasy quiet that told him most of his companions were likely sleeping. He glanced up to the cell he knew Elwen shared with Thorin. He hoped that she was resting, and he ached with the want of her. He'd grown so used to huddling close to her heat in the night, to feeling her small frame in his arms, that now he found it impossible to sleep without her.

 _I might as well get used to it,_ he thought sullenly, leaning his head against the rough stone. Kili knew once Erebor was reclaimed, there would be no more nights with Elwen. No more adventures or simply staring up at the stars. She would be beyond him then.

Kili had been aware of Elwen and Thorin's feelings for one another since Rivendell. A troll could have figured it out had it seen what Kili had on the bridge that night. And their feelings for one another had only grown as they made their way across the Misty Mountains. He'd been such a fool, holding out hope. But when she'd agreed to the Kin's Rights and to staying on in the mountain, he knew. Thorin would make her Queen and she would forever be out of his reach.

Had she not agreed to stay in Erebor, Kili would have followed her wherever she wished. To the Woodland Realm, Rivendell, or even back to the strange land where she'd lived for most her life. He would have forsaken his title and gone with her to the ends of Middle-earth because she was his One. Wherever Elwen was, that's where home would be. _Mother was right_ , he thought, the pain in his heart unbearable.

Part of him wondered if he could stay in Erebor and watch her marry Thorin. He was sure torture would be preferable to watching another Dwarf hold Elwen in a way Kili never would. Dane would surely welcome him in the Iron Hills, but the thought of being away from her felt equally painful and wrong. She was who his soul had been searching for, though he had not known it. Being parted would be like losing his hands and never again wielding sword or bow ever again.

There were no clear paths ahead, not for Kili. The only solace he could find was perhaps to keep his agony a secret. If his friends thought her only a passing fancy, if they did not know to feel sorry for him, it would make the burden tolerable. Fili knew, of course, but had the good sense to pretend he didn't. He could stand for his brother to pity him, but not the others. Not Thorin.

He looked once more at the stone and suddenly missed his mother very much.

Kili heard the others begin to stir and wondered what time of day it was.

"I'll wager the sun's on the rise," said Bofur. "It must be nearly dawn."

Kili groaned. He had talked and sulked the night away when he should have been catching up on much needed sleep.

"We're never going to reach the mountain, are we?"

It was Ori who spoke, his voice so small and sad. They were running out of time. If Thorin didn't swallow his damnable pride and come to terms with the Elf king…

Kili heard the jingle of what sounded like keys.

"Not stuck in here you're not."

Kili sprang to his feet and pressed his face to the bars. Bilbo stood in front of the cells, holding up a ring of keys, giving them a little shake. Kili could have kissed the Halfling right then and there!

"Bilbo!" Balin shouted gleefully, drawing the attention of the rest of the company.

"Shhh!" Bilbo hushed them. "There are guards nearby!"

One by one, Bilbo unlocked all the cells, starting with Elwen and Thorin. Elwen shot out of the cell and launched herself at the Hobbit, nearly knocking him down the stairs.

"I was so worried!" she said as quietly as her excitement would allow. "I thought you'd been eaten by a spider! Oh Bilbo, you wonderful, wonderful fellow you!"

Kili smiled as Bilbo awkwardly patted her back, his ears turning a pink so bright the young Dwarf could see it in the dim light.

Once the company was all free and gathered, Dwalin tried to guide them up the stairs, starting with Ori.

"Not that way," Bilbo said. "Down here. Follow-"

"Elwen," Bofur gasped her name. "Your hair!"

The company stopped dead, as if they'd briefly forgotten where they were. Kili whirled around. There, framing the left side of her beautiful face, was a braid. A look passed between Thorin and Elwen that none could mistake; absolute bliss and adoration.

"I have asked to court Elwen, and she has accepted me," said Thorin, never taking his eyes off her. And the way she beamed when everyone began to whisper their congratulations…She was so happy.

 _I don't know that I could have ever made her so happy…_

Kili felt a hand on his shoulder. He didn't need to turn to see it was Fili standing next to him.

"Yes, yes," Bilbo said amongst the chaos, sounding harassed. "But I think congratulations will need to wait. We are in a bit of a hurry. Now follow me!"

There was a murmur of agreement, and they all began to follow Bilbo.

Kili mindlessly trudged along. He couldn't think, could barely concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other. It felt like a dull, rusty knife had been thrust into his chest and through his heart. The pain was sharp, worse than any physical injury he'd ever sustained. He'd know this was inevitable, but there had been no way he could prepare for this kind of agony…

It wasn't unheard of for two Dwarves to have the same One, and duals were sometimes fought for their beloved's hand. Kili had never been able to understand going to those lengths for a woman, not until Elwen. Finally he understood why violence might be worth it.

But he wouldn't do it. He wouldn't demand a dual, even if it was his right. Thorin was his king, and more importantly, the only father he and Fili had ever known. He couldn't challenge his uncle any more than he could Fili under similar circumstances. And besides, the look on Elwen's face…the brilliant smile. Her happiness meant more to Kili then a chance for her hand. He would just have to live with that choice the best way he could.

They followed the Hobbit through the halls of the Woodland Realm. Kili looked around, taking in how drastically different this place was from Rivendell. Even though she hadn't been raised in these halls, Kili could see a wildness in Elwen that must run in her blood. Had she not known that this was the home of her people, he thought he'd have guessed it as soon as they were marched through the gate. This place felt like her, and for the first time, Kili wondered if she would be happy in Erebor. She would be happy with them, he knew that, but he wasn't sure how she would react to living inside the mountain. Elves were of wood and earth and sky; how would she feel living inside of stone?

Eventually they came into a room filled with barrels. Kili looked around, eyeing the Elves asleep and snoring, their heads on a table littered with empty wine bottles. _It really must have been some party,_ he thought wryly as Bilbo motioned for them to follow him further in.

"Come on," Bilbo whispered.

"I don't believe it," Kili said as quietly as he could muster. "We're in the cellars!"

That little bugger had lead them into the deepest part of the Realm _with no way out in sight_.

"You were supposed to be leading us out," Bofur snapped. "Not further in!"

"I know what I'm doing!"

Bofur shushed him, and Bilbo cast him a look that could have peeled paint.

"This way," Bilbo said, ushering them all into another room. Everyone was quiet, minding the sleeping guards, but they glared at the Hobbit as they passed him.

They found themselves in a long, narrow room filled with empty open wooden barrels.

"Everyone, climb into the barrels!" Bilbo whispered. "Quickly!"

"Are you mad?" Dwalin snarled, stepped toward the Hobbit. "They'll find us!"

"No, no, they won't. I promise you!" Bilbo replied. "Please, please, you must trust me."

The company all looked at one another, murmuring, and Kili wondered if perhaps Bilbo had gone mad while in Mirkwood.

"Do as he says!" Thorin ordered.

The company paused to look at their leader only for a moment before following his command. Dwalin, none too happy, snarled, "Move your big ginger head," at Gloin, pushing forward toward a barrel.

Kili automatically turned to ask Elwen to share a barrel with him. It was second nature, his want to protect her. But the question died on his lips when he saw Thorin take her hand and help her into one before climbing in after her.

 _Of course_ , he thought, getting into a barrel alone. _That isn't my place anymore. It never was._

Bilbo walked in front of the barrels to make sure everyone was in when Bofur stuck his head out.

"What do we do now?"

Everyone peered out to look at the Hobbit and watched him walk toward some sort of lever sticking out of the floor.

"Hold your breath," Bilbo warned, clamping down on the lever.

"Hold my breath?" Bofur asked, alarmed. "What do you mean?"

When Bilbo pushed the lever forward, Kili felt the floor beneath the barrels begin to give. They all tumbled down several feet, screaming the whole way, bouncing roughly along until they plummeted into icy water. Bilbo followed just a few moments later, grabbing hold of Nori's barrel as he came flailing out of the water like an angry cat.

"Well done, Master Baggins," Thorin smiled.

Bilbo, looking half drowned, waved his hand in thanks, spluttering for them to move forward.

"Go! Come on, let's go!" Thorin shouted, and the company began to move downstream.

The company paddled forward with their hands, but it didn't take much effort as the river pulled the barrels along steadily. They rounded a few rocky bends before finally seeing sunlight. Kili's eyes widened when he noticed how the river seemed to disappear ahead. A waterfall!

"Hold on!" Thorin shouted, putting a protective arm around Elwen. Kili closed his eyes, from fright or his unwillingness to see them together, he wasn't sure.

The waterfall wasn't a too far of a drop, but the water became significantly rougher when they went over. Rapids tossed them about like they were dolls. Nori tried hauling Bilbo into his barrel with little luck as they were twisted about in the churning water. Bilbo was doing his best not to be bashed against the rocks or drowned.

Kili glanced up in time to see the blonde Elf from the forest emerge from a cut doorway. He glared down at the river before shouting something in his language. _I'm going to have to get Elwen to teach me Elvish._

Upon the blonde's shout, another Elf blew a horn. There was more shouting in Elvish, and Kili didn't know till then that his heart could sink any further. Up ahead was a bridge with heavily armored guards. One guard ran toward a lever and pulled down hard, closing a gate that cut off their escape by water. Thorin shouted as he was slammed against the metal bars. The barrels quickly became bottle necked into one area, and Kili heard the distinct sound of steel being drawn. Maybe they wouldn't be thrown back in the cells; it wouldn't have surprised him if the king ordered their deaths. Kili frantically looked around for Elwen.

It was then one of the guards grunted and bowed forward. Kili's eyes widened when he saw the shaft of a long black arrow sticking out of their back as they dropped into the water. Up over the side of the bridge, an Orc appeared, knobby skinned and snarling with hatred.

"Watch out!" Bofur shouted. "There's Orcs!"

 _They've found us_ , Kili thought with a hiss. _They must truly want us dead if they dare risk the wrath of the Woodland Realm_

His hands itched for his bow, his sword, anything, but there was nothing. The Elves had left them with nothing to defend themselves. Suddenly, Elves and Orcs were everywhere battling for dominance. Kili couldn't tell how many there were, but he knew it was too many to deal with unarmed, and they were bobbing in the water like bate waiting to be swallowed by a larger fish.

High on a hill overlooking the river, a large mutilated orc gave a loud war cry, and the Orcs surged forward, throwing themselves into the river at the Dwarves. Bilbo managed to stab one in the neck with his small sword while Thorin tried to usher them all under the bridge. Kili knew it was no good. There were just too many Orcs, and the Elves priority was not saving their lives.

Kili eyed the lever, knowing it was their only hope. It was risky, definitely reckless, but at the moment he didn't care. There was nothing for it, and he was tired of feeling helpless. _This might be the only thing I'm ever allowed to do for my One. If nothing else, I can get her to safety._

He slung himself forward and wriggled out of his barrel. He jumped on top of one of the others and vaulted onto the stairs. He was immediately met by an Orc. He dodged the attack, and when he spun around, he saw Dwalin had stolen one of the Orcs swords.

"Throw it!"

Kili snatched the sword out of the air, stabbing the Orc in the leg. Steel clashed all around as he sliced the Orcs chest and belly before kicking it into the churning water below. Two, three more Orcs fell to his sword before he finally made it to the lever. He was nearly there, close enough to reach out and touch, when he felt a pain so sudden and white hot that it made the breath leap from his chest. He stopped and gasped, his mind unable to immediately process the pain.

" _KILI_!"

It was her scream that snapped him out of it. Elwen cried his name so loud it seemed to echo throughout the place. He had never heard her sound so scared, so desperate. Kili could hear Thorin and Fili shouting for her to stay in the barrel, and he knew he had to move. If she died trying to make it to his side, then it was for nothing.

He'd been shot by an arrow; he didn't need to look at his leg to know. He'd been cut plenty of times while sparring with his brother and along the journey during their various misadventures, but he'd never been shot before. It took every ounce of strength he had to move, and he groaned loudly as he tried to pull the lever. The pain that shot through his leg was worse than anything he'd ever felt before, like someone had shoved a red hot poker into his flesh. He fell, grunting as he hit the stone bridge.

 _I've failed my king_ , he thought, listening as Elwen screamed his name. _And worse, I've failed my One._

* * *

Thorin felt as though his breath had been forcibly pulled from his chest. Elwen's anguished cry…he'd never heard her sound as frightened as when she screamed Kili's name. The arrow sank into his calf with a sickening thud, and Thorin watched as Kili visibly paled. Elwen tried to scramble out of the barrel, and Thorin was forced to wrap his arms around her and bodily hold her back. She fought like a wildcat to escape his grasp, but he held her in a vice.

He watched, helplessly stuck under that blasted bridge, as Kili tried to push the lever down to only collapse in agony. Thorin and the others could only stare on in helpless shock as an Orc jumped onto the bridge and raised its sword, poised to deal his youngest nephew a deadly blow.

"Kili," Thorin breathed.

He thought he was about to watch his nephew die. Dis' face flashed before his eyes, her premonition that Thorin would bring her sons home the way he'd brought her husband. How could he ever face her again if he couldn't reunite them?

Just when Thorin thought it was over, an arrow sank deep into the side of the Orc's head.

The female Elf who had been in charge of guarding the Dwarves leapt through the underbrush, firing arrows so quickly that her movements were a blur. She unsheathed her blades and began making quick word of the orcs still on the bridge.

Quickly more Elves poured into the area, including the blonde who had captured them in Mirkwood. Thorin watched as he swiftly dispatched several of the enemy with ease, and he couldn't help but be impressed. The way he moved reminded Thorin a little bit of the way Elwen fought. His arrows never missed their mark.

During the chaos, Kili managed to pull himself up using the stone stairs as leverage. His face contorted with pain, jaw clenched, but he managed to pull down the lever. The sluice opened and the current sucked the barrels through and down a small waterfall. Fili shouted for his brother, who had managed to slide himself off the ledge and into an empty barrel before they floated too far away. The arrow snapped off with a stomach churning sound.

"Kili!" Elwen shouted, nearly tumbling out of the barrel. Thorin grabbed her around the waist to keep her from diving into the water.

"I'll be fine," Kili croaked, but even amongst the spray Thorin could see he was pale.

"You reckless fool, I'll wring your neck!" Elwen shouted over the sound of a swiftly flowing river. "How _dare_ you almost get yourself killed, you idiontic-"

"Yell at him later!" Dwalin called. "You can't skin him alive if Orcs get to him first!"

Elwen sent Kili one last angry glare and turned back to the task at hand, which was at the moment trying to navigate gradually roughening waters. Thorin chanced a glance at her and saw her brows were knitted together in irritation, but he could tell she was relieved that Kili was alive. She was always angriest after a decent fright, and if he weren't so worried they were all about to either be hunted down by Orcs or drowned, he might have smiled.

The orcs pursued them down the bank of the river. They were tossed to and fro by the rapids, the Hobbit trying desperately to keep his head above water and failing most of the time. Black arrows zinged by their heads or buried themselves in the barrels as the orcs ran after them, shouting in the foul tongue. Luckily for the Dwarves, the orcs didn't only fire arrows, but also threw axes that landed short of the mark and were able to be retrieved.

An Orc launched itself at Thorin from the bank, and it was met with steel. Thorin slashed out with his weapon. Elves moved down the bank, firing arrows, and the company did their best to fend off the pack while also trying not to drown. The battle was confusing, with the Dwarves passing stolen weapons back and forth and Elwen shouting and firing arrows when she could get her footing. Thorin was very thankful Thranduil, fool that he was, had allowed her to keep her weapons.

When the barrels came around a bend, Thorin saw a low-hanging tree branch stretched across the water, several Orcs balancing on top, weapons poised.

"Cut the log!" Thorin shouted, and when they floated beneath it, he hit it as hard as he could with his stolen sword. He turned to see Bofur do the same, and then Dwalin cleave it in two with a large axe. The Orcs tumbled into the river and Elwen gave a small victory shout.

"Bombur!" Dwalin cried, throwing the large Dwarf an axe as an orc jumped on his barrel.

Thorin watched with wide eyes as the Orc Bombur killed was pinned to a tree by its own spear. The other end of the spear caught in the top of the large Dwarf's barrel and catapulted it through the air and onto the riverbank. Elwen hooted as the barrel rolled and trampled at least a dozen of their enemy. When the barrel came to a stop and the Orcs surrounded it, Bombur kicked out the bottom and shoved his arms, axe in each fist, through the sides. He started spinning so rapidly Thorin started getting dizzy trying to keep track of the movements. He mowed down all those who surrounded him, then ran for the river. He tossed an axe to Dwalin and dropped into one of the few empty barrels floating down the river with them.

"That was fantastic!" Elwen shouted.

Thorin thought she was enjoying this far too much.

Suddenly, the Elf from the forest dropped down from the trees. Balancing easily atop Dori and Dwalin's heads, he shot down at least half a dozen Orcs before launching back onto the riverbank. Elwen laughed so hard she nearly flopped into the water, which earned her a malevolent look from Dwalin.

Elwen's eyes never left the Elf. She and Thorin watched as he ran with ease across the bank, Orcs dying with every swing of his blade or shot from his bow. She seemed in awe of him, which made Thorin briefly wonder if there was truly was some sort of connection between them.

The Elf was fighting several opponents at once, and so didn't notice the Orc sneaking up behind him, posed to bury its sword between his shoulder blades.

"LEGOLAS!" Elwen screamed.

Thorin didn't think; he raised his sword and threw it hard, burying it in the Orcs gut. The Elf spun, killing several more Orcs before pausing. He stared down the river, and Thorin wasn't sure if it was him or Elwen he was looking at. But some silent agreement seemed to pass between the three of them, and the Elf pursued them no more.

"Legolas?" Thorin asked her, but Elwen shook her head.

"Not now," she muttered, and he nodded. She was right. They still had a long way to go until they were safe.

Legolas watched as the Dwarves floated down the river, his eyes never leaving his sister. He was deciding whether or not to pursue when Tauriel gave a shout from behind him. He spun on his heal in time to see the Captain of the Guard disarm an orc that had snuck up behind him. She had it on its knees, dagger to its throat.

"Tauriel!" he shouted. "Dartho! U-no hono. HO hebo cuin." _Wait! This one we keep alive._

Legolas had questions for this Orc. It was clear they had come for the Dwarves, but why? Who sent them, and what interest did they have in Oakenshield and his ilk?

He turned back toward the river. He could still see his sister bobbing away downstream in a barrel with Oakenshield. He wasn't sure what was between Elwen and the Dwarf, but he didn't like it. Nor did he care for the way Tauriel's eyes lingered on the young Dwarf, who also only seemed to have eyes or his sister. What was it about her that had attracted these inferior creatures? How had they become so bonded? And how could she prefer them to her own family?

There were too many questions, and Legolas was heart sick at the thought that he'd never be able to ask her.

As if she could hear his thoughts across the distance, Elwen's eyes turned to where Legolas was standing. He watched her, noting every curve of her face and the pain in her eyes as she grew further and further away from him. Perhaps there was some feeling for him somewhere within her after all…

Legolas and Elwen stared across the distance at one another, never once breaking eye contact. Not until the barrel turned a bend, and his sister floated out of sight.

* * *

 **Authors Note: I AM NOT DEAD! I know you all must have been terribly worried, but here I am! Clearly, I joke. I am SO bloody sorry it's been this long without a post. I did warn you, though, about my sporadic uploading schedule. Even if it takes a while, don't fear. I am still working on this story, I will finish it. I won't leave you hanging!**

 **I'm also sorry this chapter just isn't up to snuff by my standards. Bits of it were fun to write, bits of it weren't. I like watching the barrel scene in the movie, but writing about it was another matter. I'm just more interested in getting to other parts of the story!**

 **So, question: Would anyone be interested in a short story about Thranduil and Elwen's mother? It's crossed my mind. Wouldn't be written till after this one is finished, however. Give me your thoughts!**

 **Thanks to all of you who have stuck by the story despite its slow trudging along. I hope you stick with Elwen until the end! Please continue to follow, favorite, and REVIEW! I love hearing from you all! It makes my day to see a review and really does encourage me to write!**

 **Wolfimus Prime: Thanks for the review, and yay! I'm glad you liked that bit, it was a lot of fun to write. Our poor couple, I do have some twists and turns for them up ahead!**

 **MissCallaLilly: Thank you! And I agree. People often don't see what they don't want to see, and perhaps there is a little bit of that going on here. We'll have to wait and see!**

 **SunnySides: Thank you for the review! And yeah, it probably will turn out to be a big mistake haha. And noooooooo as I've said, there is no Oc-sickness in this fic lol.**

 **Carre: 1. I'm so flattered that you like Elwen and Thorin, especially since you don't tend to go in for romance! They definitely are a slow burn, I really like slow burn romances myself so that's probably why I enjoy writing them so much! I feel like there's just so much development that needs to happen and Thorin's a prickly guy. He'd take time to figure out his feelings. As for Kili…poor Kili. You'll just have to wait and see! And yeah…you'll also have to wait and see how and when Thorin finds out. I promise it's going to be literally during the worst moment possible haha. 2. Not in this fanfiction, no. But as or anything I write in the future, who knows! 3. Of course not! I've got a rule about not wearing in front of the littles haha. 4. Thank you so much, love! You're always so encouraging, I look forward to hearing from you every time I post!**

 **AlyssaMcGrath: Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoy this chapter and will stick around for more! I'm interested to get to that part so I can see how everyone will react!**

 **Alright my fellow Hobbit lovers, it is time to say goodbye for now. I truly hope you enjoyed this chapter and will stick around for chapter 24! Hopefully it won't take me four bloody months to get it written and posted! Wish me luck! Cheers -** **Líadan**

26


	24. Chapter 24 The Enemy

Chapter 24 **The Enemy**

Gandalf huffed as he made the climb toward the ruins. It had been a long but easy ride to Rhudaur from the boarder of Mirkwood. _Too easy_ , he thought, as he finally reached the high fells.

There had been no sign of the Pale Orc and his hunters, but Gandalf the Grey was no fool. Azog had not given up the hunt simply because the company had taken refuge with Beorn. No, Azog's hunting party had been recalled. The questions were to where and what end, and probable answers made Gandalf more than a little uneasy.

The side of the mountain was sheer except for the ancient carved stone steps leading up to Gandalf's destination. The climb was tricky, and the wizard had to watch his step closely. As he climbed higher, he had time to think and worry about the friends he had left behind to traverse the depths of Mirkwood alone.

It had been many, many years since Gandalf had found himself within the Woodland Realm. Long before Thranduil had laid eyes on Elwen's mother. There was a reason Gandalf preferred to spend his time with Lord Elrond in Rivendell, for even before the death of his second wife, Thranduil had not been an easy elf to deal with. The elves of the Woodland Realm were indeed wilder than their kin, far more quickly to anger and slower to see reason.

Even as he clung to the side of a mountain, the old wizard couldn't help but smile slightly. Elwen was certainly a match for her father, but was he a match for her?

Either way, he was afraid for his friends and what they might come upon in the now dark, twisted forest. Best to be about his business quickly and join them as soon as possible. For if his suspicions were confirmed, they were in far worse peril than he could have previously thought possible.

Gandalf stepped into carved out entrance, unaware of the way it steeply sloped. He slid down the passage and narrowly avoided falling feet first into the inky blackness of the cavern below. His shout echoed off the rock as he lurched backwards, breathing heavily. _I'm too old for this,_ he thought.

He brought the end of his staff near and blew gently until he coaxed out a pure white light that chased away the darkness.

Gandalf had been inside mountains before, but not ever had he felt such dread and foreboding in the deep places of the world. A great evil had been hidden away here, one that had seeped into the very rock and stone of the mountain. It was not a place he wished to linger overly long.

His eyes widened when he looked across the cavern to the opposite wall. To the tomb.

Bars, long rusted with age, that had once covered the entrance were now ripped apart and mangled. What could have caused such damage? It certainly wasn't the slow decay of time.

Gandalf made his way to over a crumbling walkway and slipped inside, treading carefully. It was as he had feared…

The stone that had covered the body of the Witch-king of Angmar was shattered, the tomb empty.

Gandalf gasped when a creature, a bird, flew out of the empty tomb with a high pitched screech. When the wizard turned, he found that he was no longer alone.

"Oh, it's you!" he said in relief, spying Radagast's confused face staring back at him.

"Why am I here, Gandalf?" asked the other wizard.

The top of his head was covered in an extraordinarily strange hat that Bofur would have appreciated, and one side of his face looked to be covered with bird droppings. He held his staff, a gnarled, inelegant thing, as the bird hopped over the top of his hat. When he took off it off, there appeared to be a bird's nest resting on top of his head made from his hair and bits of grass and leaf. _That explains the bird droppings._

"Trust me, Radagast. I would not have called you here without good reason." Indeed he wouldn't. Radagast was a gentle soul, but a time was soon coming when not even the gentlest of folk of the world would be able to stand idly by. He had need of his friend and ally.

Two more birds joined the first, and together they rested in their nest. Radagast firmly placed the hat back atop his head.

"This is not a nice place to meet," Radagast replied, the birds chirping pleasantly beneath the hat. Such a strange, lovely sound for a dark and eerie place.

"No," Gandalf said, glancing shrewdly about, "it is not."

Radagast leaned out of the entrance, hanging onto the wall as he looked at the writing etched into the stone.

"These are dark spells, Gandalf," he said. "Old, and full of hate. Who's buried here?"

"If he had a name, it's long since been lost. He would have been known only as a servant of evil." Gandalf stepped onto the narrow ledge and shown his light into the cavern, revealing eight more places where bars had been ripped off their entrances. Empty.

"One of a number," Gandalf said heavily, his voice echoing. "One of nine."

Gandalf and Radagast made their way into the fresh air, eager to be out of that foul place. They talked as they wound their way around grey stone and down a narrow pathway that lead down the mountain.

"Why now, Gandalf?" Radagast asked. "I don't understand."

"The Ringwraiths have been summoned to Dol Guldur."

"But it cannot be the Necromancer," Radagast reasoned. "A human sorcerer could not summon such evil."

"Who said it was human?" said Gandalf.

Radagast paused and looked at his friend, puzzled. The Grey wizard stared off into the distance.

"The Nine only answer to one master. We've been blind, Radagast, and in our blindness the Enemy has returned."

Radagast let out a breath, horror no doubt seeping into his old bones. Gandalf didn't blame him for he felt the chill as well.

"He is summoning his servants." Gandalf turned to his friend. "Azog the Defiler is no ordinary hunter. He is a commander; a commander of legions. The Enemy is preparing for war. It will begin in the east. His mind is set upon that mountain."

Gandalf set off speedily down the path that would lead him to his horse.

"Where are you going?" Radagast asked.

"To rejoin the others."

"Gandalf!"

He paused, turning back. "I started this; I cannot forsake them. They are in grave danger."

"If what you say is true…the _world_ is in grave danger," Radagast reasoned. "The power in that fortress will only grow stronger."

Gandalf knew what Radagast said was true, and yet…

Gandalf thought of Elwen. The way she had looked standing in the book shop, face full of fear and hope and everything in between. He thought of the way she'd fought to be part of the company, how she had grown to love the company of Thorin Oakenshield. How they had grown to love her.

 _What was the purpose?_ He wondered sadly. _Why did the Lady make me bring her back and set her on this path if it only leads to ruin?_

"You want me to cast my friends aside?" he asked heavily, already knowing the answer. Knowing what was right. Knowing it would be the hardest thing he'd ever done.

* * *

"Anything behind us?" Thorin shouted, using a stick to propel them further downstream.

"Not that I can see," came Balin's reply.

Bofur popped out of his barrel, spitting water into the river. Elwen cringed; they'd been in their barrels long enough that she would have bet money he'd peed in there at least once.

"I think we've outrun the orcs," he cried happily. Elwen couldn't believe he'd managed to keep that stupid hat on his head.

"Not for long," Elwen said, pushing wet, stringy hair from her eyes. "We've lost the current."

"Bofur is half drowned," Dwalin said.

 _Most of us are half drowned_ , Elwen thought.

"Make for the shore!" Thorin said. "Come on, let's go."

Elwen used her arms and he used the branch to steer them toward shore. She was so exhausted and if she never swam again, it would be too soon.

She wasn't the only one in the company pushed to the brink. Oin called out to his brother for help in a water logged voice. As they made it to shore, Dwalin grunted and groaned as he helped lift a few of the others from the barrels.

Thorin helped her out of their barrel and held her upright lest she collapse. He checked her over as best he could for injuries, but it was difficult due to her soaked, clinging clothes.

"Are you alright?" he asked softly and she nodded, laying her head on his chest. The river had chilled her to the bone, but he was somehow still warm. Elwen never thought she'd see the day where she wished to be back in a cell below her father's kingdom, but at least there they could be alone and warm there.

As Kili and Fili dragged themselves up onto the rocks, Kili promptly collapsed with a groan, holding his leg.

Elwen ripped herself from Thorin's arms and made her way to Kili. She had to practically crawl to him; the rock was too slippery for her to gain purchase. When she made it to his side, she saw that binding around the wound was soaked through with blood. She paled; the wound was deep, and the time in the water hadn't helped the bleeding. She watched as he pressed a piece of cloth into the hole in his leg and hissed through the pain, and her jaw clenched.

Kili looked at her, his gaze hard and flat. She winced. There had been no time to tell him of the engagement, no opportunity to speak privately. He'd found out along with the rest of the company, had seen the braid, and had no time to process before they were chased down river by a blood thirsty pack of orcs. It was her fault that he'd acted so recklessly and gotten himself hurt.

"I'm fine," he said to her sharply. "It's nothing."

"Nothing my eye," Elwen said, touching his arm gently. "Kili, I-"

"On your feet," barked Thorin. Elwen's head whipped around, a snarl on her lips.

"Kili's wounded," Fili said before she could speak. "His leg needs binding."

"There's an orc pack on our tail; we keep moving."

Thorin wasn't wrong; they couldn't sit about idly. The orcs would waste no time hunting them down, and they were in no position to mount a defense. But guilt nagged at her, and worry for her friend.

"To where?" Elwen stood, hands on her hips, glaring at her betrothed.

"To the mountain," replied Bilbo. "We're so close."

"I don't know if any of you have noticed the huge lake between us and that mountain, but have a look," she gestured broadly. "Any of you hiding a boat in your pockets?"

"So we go around," Bilbo reasoned.

"The orcs will run us down as sure as daylight. We've no weapons to defend ourselves, save Elwen's," said Dwalin.

Thorin thought for a moment before speaking. "Bind his leg, quickly. You have two minutes."

Elwen let Oin and the others work on Kili. She wasn't sure her presence would be appreciated, and she also didn't know if she could stand to see him bleeding like that. So she stomped to the edge of the rocks and plopped down, pulling off her boots. They were full of water and she didn't fancy having soggy feet for the rest of the journey.

When she was done, she leaned back and let the sun hit her face. _I'll never be dry_ , she thought sullenly. Movement caught the edge of her vision and a shadow briefly blocked the sun. She turned slowly, her eyes widening upon the unexpected sight of a man looming above her, bow in hand.

Elwen shouted and reached the knife at her belt, which gained the attention of the group who all spun toward them. Before she could leap to her feet, Dwalin was standing squarely in front of her, branch in hand. He lifted it, ready to charge the stranger, but before he could so much as take a step, an arrow found itself embedded right between the dwarf's large tattooed hands.

Kili stood on wobbly legs, rock in hand, but the stranger had already knocked another arrow and loosed it. The rock clattered to the ground and Kili looked at his empty hand, dark brows raised in surprise.

"Do it again," said the man calmly, "and you're dead."

Elwen rose to her feet slowly, letting the grip on her knife loosen. She moved carefully, not wanting him to let loose an arrow if startled. He tracked her movements as she slowly edged over to her companions, inching her way in front of the injured Kili. He grunted in protest but was in no position to move her aside.

Balin, probably assuming Elwen was about to do something stupid (and rightly so), broke the tension. "Excuse me, but, uh, you're from Laketown if I'm not mistaken?" He moved toward the man, who raised his bow in response. Balin put his hands up to show they were empty. "That barge over there… it wouldn't be available for hire, by any chance?"

The man lowered his bow and without so much as a word, he turned toward the boat Elwen hadn't noticed. It was a fairly large barge with a pretty deck and tall mast that housed raised sails.

The bowman was a tall man, slim even in his layered clothes. His hair was long and dark, which he kept pulled out of a narrow and handsome face with a piece of leather. Elwen couldn't say how old he was; he had the kind of face that placed him anywhere from thirty-five to perhaps forty-five. There were lines around his eyes and forehead, but they were faint, as if time had been kind to him. It was the eyes that struck her when he turned toward the sun; they were lighter than they had first appeared, and far older than the rest of his face.

She suddenly felt as she had so many times back in Rivendell, and even in the Woodland Realm. The quiet sense tickling the back of her mind, telling her there was something startlingly familiar about those eye. The feeling of _remembering_.

"What makes you think I will help you?" asked the bowman as the company approached him, caution in every step.

"Those boots have seen better days. As has that coat," replied Balin, motioning to the aforementioned clothing. The man went about his business of gathering the barrels they had ridden down the river in and loading them onto the deck. _Good riddance_. Balin continued. "No doubt you have hungry mouths to feed. How many bairns?"

"A boy and two girls."

 _Probably closer to the forty years then_.

"And your wife, I imagine she's a beauty."

The man paused his movement, not looking up as he spoke heavily, sadly. "Aye, she was."

Balin's smile slipped from his face, and Elwen's heart gave a little squeeze. "I'm sorry," said Balin when the man looked over his shoulder, "I didn't mean to-"

"Oh come on, come on, enough of the niceties," Dwalin muttered to Thorin. Elwen swore under her breath. Dwarves were shit at whispering.

"What's your hurry?" asked the man, curious, seemingly taking no offense.

"What's it to you?" Dwalin.

Elwen picked up a rock and chunked it at him.

"I would like to know who you are," said the stranger sharply, resting a leg against the side of his boat and gazing down at Balin. "And what you are doing in these lands."

"We are simple merchants from the Blue Mountains journeying to see our kin in the Iron Hills."

The man made a face that told her he wasn't buying what Balin was selling.

"Simple merchants, you say?" he said archly, looking at Elwen. "And her? You travel with an elf woman?"

Fili and Kili both pressed close to her as she stiffened.

"We'll need food, supplies, weapons," Thorin implored urgently, turning the man's attention away from her, which was no doubt the intent. "Can you help us?"

The bargeman gave Thorin a skeptical look, then ran a hand over the scarred bits of barrel where arrows had torn chunks away from the wood. "I know where these barrels came from," he said.

"What of it?" Thorin demanded.

"I don't know what business you had with the elves, but I don't think it ended well. And it probably had something to do with that she-elf with you," the man replied. Elwen scowled, but he pressed on. "No one enters Lake-town but by leave of the Master. All his wealth comes from trade with the Woodland Realm. He will see you in irons before risking the wrath of King Thranduil."

His voice sounded almost amused as he untied his boat and wound the thick rope around his hand, then tossed it to Balin. The white haired dwarf fumbled a bit before he caught it, then looked to Thorin.

Their leader murmured, "Offer him more."

Balin looked exasperated, but his mind was quick. "I'll wager there are ways to enter that town unseen."

"Aye," said the man, laying down his weapons, readying to cast off. "But for that, you will need a smuggler."

"For which we would pay double."

Elwen felt a smile stretch across her face when the man stopped abruptly. _Looks like we've found ourselves a ride._

* * *

"Such is the nature of evil," Thranduil said loftily as he prowled like a cat around the horrid, twisted creature before him. "Out there in the vast ignorance of the world it festers and spreads. A shadow that grows in the dark. A sleepless malice as black as the oncoming wall of night. So it was; so will it always be. In time, all foul thing come forth."

Thranduil looked down at the wretched beast, folding his arms. Legolas had the orc on its knees, a sharp blade pressed to its throat while the Captain of the Guard stood watch, a snarl on her lips and dagger in hand.

"You were tracking a company of thirteen dwarves and a woman," Legolas growled, pressing the blade harder into the orcs tough hide. "Why?"

"Not thirteen," said the orc, looking directly to Tauriel. "Not anymore. The young one, the black-haired archer, we struck him with a Morgul shaft." Tauriel's eyes grew worried. _Interesting_ , thought Thranduil. _Very interesting_. The orc noticed her growing unease and took pleasure in adding, "The poison's in his blood. He'll be chocking on it soon." It let out a growling chirp after every sentence.

"Answer the question, filth," Tauriel demanded.

"Sha hakhitz khunai-go, Golgi!" _I do not answer to dogs, She-Elf!_

Tauriel's blade cut through the air as she readied herself to strike, fury seething off her in nearly palatable waves. Thranduil waited, patient, watching as the scene unfolded.

"I would not antagonize her," warned Legolas.

"You like killing things, orc?" Tauriel asked archly. The orc growled in reply. "You like death? Then let me give it to you!"

Tauriel rushed forward, her knife aiming straight for the orcs heart

"Farn! Tauriel," Thranduil barked. She pulled up short, gazing at him with angry, hooded eyes over the top of the creatures head. "Ego! Gwao hi." _Enough! Tauriel, leave! Go now._

He would not allow the captain's temper to rob him of the information he sought. The orc hissed at Tauriel, who gave it one last look of pure malice as she stalked away.

"I do not care about one dead dwarf," Thranduil said, being entirely honest. The dwarves of Erebor were not his concern. "Answer the question. You have nothing to fear. Tell us what you know and I will set you free."

"You had orders to kill them. Why? What is Thorin Oakenshield to you?" Legolas peered down at the orc, silver blue eyes flashing. Thranduil had no doubt that his son wanted nothing more but to put an end to the filth kneeling on their floors, but they both wanted answers more than the creatures death.

"The dwarf runt will never be king," replied the orc, its voice a deep snarl.

"King?" questioned the prince. "There is no king under the mountain, nor will there ever be. None would dare enter Erebor whilst the dragon lives."

Thranduil could hear the worry beneath the angry growl of his son's words. No doubt he was thinking of his sister, who Thranduil knew traveled toward the very mountain Legolas spoke of. To do what Legolas feared, for his daughter intended to journey to the dragon's lair.

"You know nothing!" barked the orc. "Your world will burn!"

"What are you talking about? Speak!" Legolas' patience was quickly wearing thin.

"Our time has come again. My master serves the One."

Fear. A fear cold as ice sliced its way through Thranduil's skin and trickled into his blood. If this was so…if this orc spoke truly, then his daughter had more to worry about than only Smaug the Terrible. If the orcs that now hunted her and her companions had truly been sent by the enemy, they would not stop until their task was complete, not to mention the swath of blood they would cut across the rest of the land.

"Do you understand now, Elfling?" taunted the orc cheerfully. "Death is upon you. The flames of war are upon you."

The orc cackled with wicked glee, and Thranduil could abide it no longer. He loosed his sword in a quick fluid motion, and the orc tumbled to the ground while Legolas still held its head aloft.

"Why did you do that?" Legolas asked, dropping the head to the ground unceremoniously. "You promised to set him free."

"And I did," Thranduil replied easily, gazing down at the still twitching body of the orc. "I freed his wretched head from his miserable shoulders." He ground his boot into the creature's ankle until it ceased moving.

"There was more the orc could tell us," said Legolas.

"There was nothing more he could tell me." Thranduil slung the blood from is blade before sheathing it, walking down steps and further into the realm.

"What did he mean by 'flames of war'?" Legolas demanded.

"It means they intend to unleash a weapon so great it will destroy all before it," replied Thranduil, quickening his pace. He called instruction out loudly for all to hear, pausing to look at his son. To make sure he understood. "I want the watch doubled at all our borders. All roads, all rivers. Nothing moves but I hear of it. No one enters this kingdom, and no one leaves it."

"But Elwen," Legolas protested. "She's out there with Oakenshield and they have an orc pack on their trail. It is only a matter of time before they are found. I should-"

"You will not leave," Thranduil ordered. "She made her choice." He spun on his heels and walked away before he could hear anymore protests.

* * *

The king made his way to a quieter part of the realm that housed private quarters. He closed the door to his rooms quietly, telling the guard on duty that he was not to be disturbed unless it was an issue of grave importance.

Only when he was alone did the careful mask of stone and indifference fall from his face like the dead leaves of autumn. Across the room on a table sat a hand drawn portrait Thranduil did not dare look upon.

It was the only request his wife had made of him before she died. _Protect our daughter. Make sure she has the best life possible. See to her happiness_. She'd made no other plea, no thought to her own legacy. From the moment Elwen entered the world, screaming loud enough Thranduil had feared he would go deaf, she was their entire world.

His wife and son both adored the babe and monopolized much of her time. During waking hours, Elwen was always either snuggled up to her mother, or secured against her brother's chest as they walked through the trees. Thranduil's heart ached at the thought. He knew how Legolas had longed for the day when his sister would be old enough to wander with him, to race between the trees, hunt and swim and train together. A future so longed for that when it crumbled and turned to dust before his eyes, it had been too much to bear.

No one knew, not even his wife with whom he shared everything, but Thranduil would go quietly into Elwen's nursery late at night when the stars were at their brightest, and simply whisper to the child. He would tell her stories of the ages and of all the things he had seen. He told her of their kin in Rivendell and Loth Lorien, and of the many creatures spread across their vast and interesting land. If she fussed, he would pick her up and hold her close. Legolas and her mother were both jealous of the way Elwen would immediately calm in her father's arms, as if she knew that no matter what befell her, he would always be her sanctuary.

He held her on the last night she was his. Her mother was too sick to be near the babe. It tore him to pieces, watching how she yearned for her daughter, how she clung to life with aching fingers to spend one more day with her and him. The wasting disease had clung so tightly to her that not even elven healing could take it from her body.

And then the Lady of Lorien had come to them during his wife's last days. Galadriel spoke of a grand purpose, an unsure path that only Elwen could walk. "She will help save the world," Galadriel had said. But only if they were strong enough to let her go.

At first he'd been outraged. He was going to lose his second wife, the woman who had burst into his life and eased the grief he'd carried for over a century after the loss of Legolas' mother. He had not expected to love again, so deeply and thoroughly that it seeped into his very skin. Especially not a mortal. He had known that he would lose her, but he thought he'd have more time. He thought he would have more time with his daughter, but when his dying wife had looked at him, he'd known it was what she wanted. She had grown so thin and pale, but her eyes were still wild and clear. Elwen was meant for something greater, and they could not hold her back.

And so, one last time Thranduil held his daughter close. He held her all night, letting her sleep in his arms as he memorized every inch of her face. Would he know her next time they met? Who would she grow to look more like, him or her? Would she be calm and stoic like her father, or wild and untamed like her mother? Perhaps somewhere in the middle, like Legolas.

A part of him died the day Elrond of Rivendell took his daughter from his arms. And the rest of him followed when his wife took her last breath. It had wrecked him beyond repair, body and soul, so much so that he had forbidden their names uttered within his presence lest he lose what little self-control he still possessed.

"When she returns to you, keep her safe. See her happy," his wife had demanded the day she faded from the world. "Tell her why we did what we did. Never let her question that she is loved."

Thranduil glanced over at the drawing, unable to resist. His wife looked back at him, and though she was smiling, he felt her eyes accusing him. _I've failed you,_ he thought. He'd failed so utterly that he was at a loss of how to move forward.

"She has my eyes," he whispered brokenly to the empty room, throat tight. "But she is you in every other way. I knew her from the moment I saw her. And she has found a home, and a family, and I am not part of it. She is set upon her path and I could not persuade her from it. She did not choose me."

He thought by locking her in a cell, it would keep her close. Even if she hated him, she would be safe within his boarders. But she was gone, had slipped away with Oakenshield and his ilk without any idea of the danger stirring in the dark places of the world. Whatever vision Galadriel had had about the girl's future, it was no doubt unfolding before their very eyes. Which meant he could not keep his word. He could not keep her safe.

Thranduil had wanted to race to her side. To envelop her in his arms and never let her go. But he didn't know how, not anymore. He didn't know how to set aside twenty-five years of unbearable grief and longing and heartbreak into a single fleeting moment. No parent should ever lose their child, under any circumstances. It was the unimaginable, the unthinkable. _And now I have lost her twice._

Legolas might hate him, might think him cruel. Perhaps he was. But Legolas was the only child he had left that he was able to keep from harm. And so he would. Legolas would remain within the realm until Thranduil could think of a way to save his daughter. To truly bring the lost princess home.

* * *

Legolas seethed as he marched toward the gate to carry out his father's orders. The fury very nearly took control of his senses. He wanted nothing more than to smash his fist into something over and over until his knuckles split and bled.

Thranduil was not known for mercy or forgiveness, but this went beyond what Legolas thought his father capable. To turn his back on his own daughter, a daughter that had been lost to him for a quarter of a century. How could he do it? _And how can I obey?_

Legolas thought about his sister's words last they spoke. "They are my people!" she had shouted defiantly. _I am loyal to the dwarves of Erebor. They are my family, and I will not abandon them._

Thranduil was right; Elwen had chosen, and it had not been her blood.

 _She does not want me as her brother_ , he thought, pain slicing through him in an almost physical way. He couldn't blame her, not really. He was a stranger to her, and the dwarves had been her companions through what must have been a long and difficult journey. Still, to have loved someone so much only to have that love rejected…

"Holo in ennyn!" Legolas ordered, his face a hard unreadable mask. He could not show weakness, not now. "Tiro I defnin hain na ganed en-Aran." _Close the gate! Keep it sealed by order of the King._

Legolas turned to walk away, eager to be alone with his thoughts when a guard called back to him.

"Man os Tauriel?" _What about Tauriel?_

Legolas paused. "Man os sen?" _What about her?_ He had seen her face when that orc had mentioned the dark haired archer. The worry etched on her face for a dwarf she barely knew.

Legolas and Tauriel had never been more than friends, but Legolas' heart still ached when she was near. He cared little for his father's opinion, and would defy him without question should Tauriel ever show an ounce of interest. But she had never looked at Legolas the way she had that young dwarf. Did the orc speak true? Could the dwarf be dying slowly of poison now coursing through his veins? The thought of it might be enough to make Tauriel do something rash…

"Edevin eb enedhor," replied the guard. "Nag u a megil. En u-nandollen." _She went into the forest armed with her bow and blade. She has not returned._

Legolas walked out onto the bridge, his far seeing eyes narrowing as they searched for the path the captain had likely taken. If Tauriel went in search of the dwarf, that meant she would likely find his sister as well. The chance of it was enough to send him sprinting toward the trees, ignoring the shouts of the guards behind him. He would go in search of the one he loved and his sister, disregarding his father's orders and despite whatever punishment he might face upon return. They were worth it.

Still, Legolas' guts twisted as he made his way toward the river, for there was a question he was not entirely sure he wanted answered.

Would his sister want to be found?

* * *

 **Authors Note:**

 **Hellllooooooooo hi hi hi! I am still here, still doing my best to put words on a page! I'm sorry it's taken so long. Life is life and I've been working on my original fiction much more, which leaves little time for this story. But I AM still working on it, I AM going to finish it, and hopefully the next installment won't be four months down the road. But I make no promises.**

 **Thanks to you all who have stuck by the story and Elwen through her journey. Things are unraveling fast now, and I'm getting into some of my favorite parts of the story! I THINK part 2 should be wrapping up in the next five or six chapters but I'm not positive. I've actually had to re-arrange some of my outline, so I'm not entire sure exactly how many chapters this is going to be anymore! I imagine somewhere near the 60 mark, maybe a few less. We'll see! I hope you stick around to find out!**

 **Important note: I'm going to be going back little by little and editing a bit of the earlier chapters. There are some errors I've caught, typos and the like, and also a few continuity errors that are irritating me. So you might get notified that the chapters have been replaced. I'll probably be replacing all of the chapters little by little, just tweaking them until I'm satisfied. Or satisfied enough that I can let it go haha.**

 **Pallysd'Artagnan: I also feel Kili's sadness. In fact, his angst over the relationship is one of my favorite things to explore with this story! Thank you for your continued support; I hope I continue to deliver quality content for you! (Also, I am trash for a good love triangle. Almost all my fanfictions will probably feature one haha.)**

 **SunnySides: Looooooooooooooool all the love connections in this story, I love the way you laid it all out haha. I'm not going to confirm or deny any of your predictions because I wouldn't want to ruin your fun, but I hope you're not disappointed if I have other plans. The only thing I'll say is that IF Elwen were to use any latent magical abilities to save Kili, that wouldn't be revealing to Thorin. First of all, Thorin was in Erebor during that point of the film, and also Thorin is already aware that she's half-elven. He is only unaware that her father is King Thranduil. I hope you continue to read and enjoy the story!**

 **MissCallaLilly: Yes, poor Kili. And ha, yeah, Tauriel… we'll see what I've got in store for her.**

 **Ro781727: Lol man, I've already discussed this with you in a private message. I am taking my own liberties with Tolkien's universe. His rules don't necessarily have to apply to MY story. So yeah, they are half siblings, Thranduil has been married twice, end of story. Not changing it just because it irks one person. No one else has complained, and I wouldn't care if they had. This is my story and I'm telling it the way I want. I'm not trying to be rude, but this isn't the first time you've commented on the subject and I thought it was dropped. It's fanfiction, dude. Let me take some creative license and do what I want with my story, it's all good!**

 **Carre: 1. Thank you! 2. You're welcome! 3. Perhaps Dis will make another appearance later on…who can say? Not me, cause no spoilers! 4. I agree, it is really funny! I love watching it, though it was really difficult to write haha. 5. Right!? Hahaha! 6. I'm considering it! I suppose it'll just depend on if enough people find it interesting, and if I find it an interesting enough story to want to tell! 7. Thank you so much! I always look forward to your reviews, and I hope you're doing well!**

 **: Here is MOOOORRREEEEEE!**

 **Leapoffreedom: Thank you so much for taking the time to read and review! I enjoy hearing from people so much! So glad it's funny, my goal is to definitely get a giggle or two in between all the angst!**

 **Aeroza: Thank you so much for the review! I'm very glad you've found your way to this story and are enjoying it! Haha, I've got the entire story mapped out already, and can't tell you where I'm choosing to end it or where the plot is going because of spoilers. Thank you for the suggestions though! I hope no one is too disappointed if their suggestions don't make it into the story as I already have a concrete direction I am taking it in.**

 **DanielleD: Thank you for the review! And while I'm not against poly rep, that won't be featured in this story. Kili and Thorin being blood relatives makes a poly relationship a little…no, for me. Also, that simply isn't the direction this story is taking, but I'm sure there are plenty of other stories out there like that just waiting to be found! I hope you'll continue to read anyway!**

 **Alright Lords and Lassies, it's time to wrap this up. Again, thank you so much for reading and reviewing, favoriting and following! I will be back as soon as I can with another installment of this saga that is Elwen's story. I am pleased as punch that everyone still seems to care for my spunky half-elf! I hope you're all doing fantastic, and don't forget to drop me a line! I love hearing from you and love hearing your predictions, even if I will neither confirm nor deny muwahahaha!**

 **Cheers, L**

30


	25. Chapter 25 Family

**Chapter 25 Family**

Most of the dwarves chose to congregate at the front of the ship, but Elwen hung back. They spoke quietly of plans for when they made it across the lake, but her mind was too full of the past twenty-four hours to concentrate. In such a short amount of time, Elwen had found out she was some lost princess, that she had a family who might never approve of her choices, and found herself engaged to a king. Holy crap.

Not to mention the orcs still hunting them. She didn't want to think about the orcs.

She found herself leaning against one of the abandoned barrels toward the rear with the bowman, the first human she'd seen since coming to Middle-earth. She wondered if that was why she found him so familiar, but something told her that wasn't quite right. As hard as she fought the urge, she couldn't keep her eyes from finding him where he stood steering the barge with quiet confidence.

It was impossible, she knew it was, but somehow Elwen felt that she knew him. When she looked at him, she got the same feeling she'd had wandering through the trees in Rivendell. A hint of the past flickered at the edge of her memories. She felt more than remembered.

"You're staring," said the stranger who wasn't a stranger. She quickly turned away and muttered an apology.

She tried to look anywhere but at him, so her gaze fell on Kili. Most of the other dwarves were deep in conversation, but Kili was quiet, his gaze far away and face white with pain. They had cleaned and bound his wound as best they could, but it was too deep. It would take a long time to heal, and they would be lucky if it didn't grow infected.

She was considering going to his side when she sensed eyes on her.

"Now who's staring?" she said lowly, eyes narrowed.

"I'm trying to decide if you're an elf or not," said the man with a closed lipped grin.

"Why does it matter to you what I am?" Her shoulders stiffened.

"I don't suppose it does," he replied with a shrug. "But it is curious. I've never seen an elf travel with dwarves before. I very much hope that I am not harboring a fugitive from the Woodland Realm."

His tone was teasing, but his dark eyes were sharp and perceptive. Hunter's eyes.

The statement was almost enough to make her laugh. Almost.

"I'm not a fugitive," she shifted uncomfortably. _Not exactly_. "I'm half-elf, if you must know."

The bowman's head whipped up.

"What did you say?" he breathed

"Um, I know half-elves aren't common, but-"

"You can count on one hand how many half-elves have been born in the last age."

Elwen started. _That rare, huh?_

"How do you know so much about elves?" she asked. Now it was her turn to be curious. "Who are you, exactly?"

"I'm called Bard," he said, his eyes growing hard, "and you can say that my family has had…dealings with the Woodland Realm."

By his tone, Elwen guessed that these dealings hadn't been all rainbows and butterflies.

"So you know the king?" she asked reluctantly.

Bard's voice darkened further. "Yes, I know King Thranduil."

 _Guess dear old dad isn't popular anywhere,_ Elwen thought wryly. That thought made her far happier than she should have been.

Bard looked at her full in the face for the first time since she'd climbed aboard his barge. He audibly gasped when his eyes found hers.

"What are you called?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Elwen," she replied nervously. "Elwen Greenleaf."

Bard's face went white as Kili's, as if he'd been dealt a great shock.

As if he'd seen a ghost.

* * *

Bard did his best not to gape openly at the girl. There she was, sitting not a stone's throw away, but he couldn't make sense of it. A half-elf woman with _those_ eyes and _that_ name. Gods, how long had it been since he heard it spoken aloud. _Elwen_.

He'd thought of her every day for the past twenty-five years. When his first child had been born, he couldn't help but wonder what Elwen would have been like playing with her cousin. What would she look like, who would she act like? Would she be tall and graceful like her father's people, or small and simple like her mother? Would she have good humor, or a habit for melancholy? She'd be smart as a whip, he never doubted that. He'd hoped that she would be kind.

But in twenty-five years, no matter how he imagined her, he'd never imagined her _alive_.

Alive, seemingly healthy and strong, and in the company of thirteen dwarves and a hobbit.

The dwarves would bring trouble, he was sure of that. The holes in the barrels had been a dead giveaway as to the fact that they were running from something. Had it been the elves who attacked them, or someone else? How likely was it that their foes would follow them all the way to Lake-town?

Bard had his children to consider. What he should do was turn around and drop them right back where he'd found them. If he were the unscrupulous sort, he'd take their coin and betray them to the first guard they came across. But he wouldn't do either. The old dwarf had Bard's measure; he and most of the town's folk had fallen on hard times thanks to the Master and his greed. He needed the money and wasn't in the habit of taking what he did not earn. Nor did he betray those to whom he gave his word.

 _And besides_ , he thought, giving the girl another glance. _I've got family to look after._

She was beginning to look at him strangely, and he did not want to draw the attention of the dwarves. It was possible they did not know who they traveled with. It was possible _she_ did not know. There were too many questions that he couldn't begin to know how to ask. So he simply looked at her and smiled.

"Well met, Elwen Greenleaf," he said. And when he smiled, her face filled with recognition. _She knows my smile_ , he thought. _She knows it as well as she knows her own._

"Well met, Bard of Laketown," she replied, sounding a bit mystified.

He watched her go after she excused herself and slid between the barrels to the front of the ship. He couldn't look away in fear that she would vanish like the specter she surely was.

"Watch out!" one of the dwarves shouted. The one with the silly hat.

Pillars of an ancient city now lost to the lake loomed above in the fog. Bard, of course, knew exactly when they would appear and steered them to safety quickly enough. The dwarves looked on in awe.

"What are you trying to do, drown us?" growled one of the dwarves. His hair was long and black, and he had a warriors build about him. He was also the one the other dwarves seemed to look to as their leader.

"I was born and bred on these waters, Master Dwarf," Bard threatened cooly. "If I wanted to drown you, I would not do it here."

* * *

Thorin eyed the bargeman. He did not like needing to rely on this man in order to make it across the lake. He didn't trust him, and it was not only because he was a stranger.

The man had thought Thorin did not notice, but he did. And he did not like the way the man had looked at Elwen. As if he knew her. The last time that happened, they had all wound up locked in a dungeon. It wasn't her fault, but it still made him wary.

"Oh I have had enough of this lippy lake-man," spat Dwalin, who was leaning up against one of the barrels. "I say we throw him over the side and be done with it."

"Oh, Bard, his name's Bard," Bilbo drawled, annoyed with Dwalin and his lack of manners, no doubt.

"How do you know?" Bofur asked.

"Ah, I asked him."

"I don't care what he calls himself," replied Dwalin. "I don't like him,"

"You don't like him because he got the drop on you," Elwen muttered. Fili snorted.

"We do not have to like him; we simply have to pay him," Balin reasoned. "Come on now, lads, turn out your pockets."

A few grumbled, but everyone did as they were told, including Elwen. Thorin raised an eyebrow; she'd won herself quite the pile of gold thanks to the small wagers they'd made throughout the journey. She caught his eye and winked.

"How do we know he won't betray us?" Dwalin asked Thorin lowly.

"We don't," was Thorin reply

"There's, um, just a wee problem," said Balin nervously. "We're ten coins short."

Thorin crossed his arms and stared down at their coin keeper. "Gloin," he said heavily. "Come on, give us what you have."

"Don't look to me," Gloin replied. "I have been bled dry by this venture! And what have I seen for my investment? Naught but misery and grief and…"

Thorin looked into the distance and that's when he saw it. The company stood and saw Erebor rising out of the fog, closer than any of them had seen in sixty years. Even Kili pushed himself to his feet, despite the pain. It was a wonder, watching the youngest of their company look upon their ancestral home.

Elwen appeared at his side and slid her hand into his, squeezing lightly. He looked at her and smiled. They had made it, together. He was going to take her home.

"Bless my beard," said Gloin, who then shoved a jingling sack of coins at Balin. "Take it. Take all of it."

Bilbo coughed and motioned toward Bard, who jumped from his place at the rear of the barge.

"The money, quick," he demanded. "Give it to me."

"We will pay you when we get our provisions, but not before," Thorin said firmly.

"If you value your freedom, you'll do as I say. There are guards ahead."

Balin looked at Thorin questioningly.

"We can trust him," Elwen whispered softly, and Thorin eyed her. "I can't explain how I know, but I do. Give it to him."

After a moment, Thorin nodded to Balin and told the old dwarf to do as Elwen said.

As Bard looked out into the fog, Thorin heard the sound of men yelling in the distance. They all turned, and could see what looked like a small dock rising from the water. A check point in the center of the lake.

The company quickly scrambled back into their barrels. This time, as they were going to be ducking down and hiding, Thorin and Elwen sought out their own instead of sharing.

"Shh, what's he doing?" Dwalin asked from his barrel.

"He's talking to someone," Bilbo replied, as he was the only one with a hole in his barrel big enough to see through. "He's…pointing right at us!"

Thorin inwardly swore.

"Now they're shaking hands," said Bilbo, panicked.

"What?" Thorin growled.

"The villain!" Dwalin exclaimed. "He's selling us out."

"Shut up," Elwen snapped. "Just watch."

Thorin was preparing to leap from the confines of his barrel when he heard the creaking of what sounded like some kind of wheel and then…

Fish. Cold, dead fish raining on their heads. When the avalanche of scales and slime ceased, Thorin heard Elwen say, "Someone is going to die today."

"Let's just hope that someone isn't you," said the lake-man, his voice far too amused for Thorin's liking.

* * *

Bard hadn't expected the dead fish to go over well, which was why he didn't warn the party beforehand. It _had_ been funny listening to them groan and grumble as they were pelted with dozens of fish, seeing as how the bald tattooed one had surely been planning to toss him off his own ship.

But the groaning only grew louder, and the closer they grew to town, the more dangerous their subterfuge grew.

"Quiet!" Bard kicked the nearest barrel. "We're approaching the toll gate."

Lake-town, or Esgaroth, had been built in the center of the Long Lake, standing on pillars that had been sunk into its bed. It was an ideal location for defense, as it was surrounded by cliffs and high mountain ranges. An enemy could easily be spotted coming to them by boat or by the one loan dock that connected them to land.

Bard loved the people of Lake-town, but sometimes felt trapped there. That was one reason they had taken to learning all they could about navigating the lake when they were young in order to make it to the woods to hunt. She always went with him, and they would run through the trees and enjoy the feeling of solid ground beneath their feet. She was a far better shot with a bow than he, and they rarely left the forest empty handed

That was where she met King Thranduil, and both of their lives had been changed forever.

Bard shook his head to banish the memories. The barge was approaching the gate and he needed his wits about him.

"Halt!" shouted the gatekeeper. "Goods inspection! Papers, please!" the man paused upon seeing who had ridden up. "Oh, it's you, Bard."

"Morning, Percy."

"Anything to declare?" Percy asked.

"Nothing, but that I am cold and tired, and ready for home." Bard produced a sheet of paper from his coat pocket and handed it to the gatekeeper.

"You and me both," Percy said, going into his office briefly to check the paperwork. He soon reappeared, saying "There we are. All in order."

As Percy was reaching out to hand Bard the paper, a black clad figure sprung up behind him.

"Not so fast," said Alfrid, adviser to the Master of Lake-town and resident pain in Bard's backside. Bard knew his appearance could only mean difficulty. "Consignment of empty barrels from the Woodland Realm," Alfrid read. "Only, they're not empty, are they, Bard?" He tossed the paper aside as he and several of the town guards moved down the dock. "If I recall correctly, you're licensed as a bargeman, not a fisherman."

Alfrid plucked one of the fish from the barrel.

"That's none of your business," Bard replied coldly. He'd like nothing more than yank that fish out of Alfrid's hand and shove it right up his-

"Wrong," Alfrid smirked. "It's the Master's business, which makes it my business."

"Oh come on, Alfrid, have a heart," Bard tried to reason. "People need to eat!"

"These fish are illegal," Alfrid announced, tossing the fish in his hand back into the lake. "Empty the barrels over the side."

"You heard him," growled Braga the guard. "Into the canal. Come on, get a move."

Four guards entered the barge as Bard looked on helplessly. Once they started tipping over barrels and finding dwarves, Bard wasn't sure he'd be able to talk himself out of that particular predicament.

"Folk in this town are struggling," he said, warily looking on as the guards began hauling barrels across the deck. "Times are hard. Food is scarce."

"That's not my problem," Alfrid said carelessly.

"And when the people hear the Master is dumping fish back into the lake," Bard turned to Alfrid, speaking lowly. "When the rioting starts, will it be your problem then?" Bard did his best not to turn toward the sound of splashing.

"Stop!" Alfrid held up a hand, reluctant. The guards grunted as they hauled the barrels back into an upright position. "Ever the people's champion, eh, Bard? Protector of the common folk. You might have their favor now, bargeman, but it won't last."

Alfrid stalked away, and Bard breathed a bit easier when Percy called for the gate to be raised.

"The Master has his eye on you!" Alfrid whirled around and snarled as Bard steered his boat through the gate. "You'd do well to remember we know where you live."

Bard rolled his eyes.

"It's a small town, Alfrid; everyone knows where everyone lives."

* * *

Elwen had almost gotten used to the smell of stinky ass fish when she felt her world tilt sideways.

She found herself sprawled out on Bard's deck in a bed of fish. She was covered in scales and slime and smelled so badly that she was sure Thorin would take one whiff of her and dive into the lake. She smelled herself and nearly did just that.

"Get your hands off me," Elwen heard Dwalin snarl when Bard reached into his barrel to try to help him. Poor Bard; none of them were likely in a great mood after spending any amount of time covered in fish.

There was man standing on the deck, watching gape mouthed as dwarves, a Hobbit, and Elwen emerged from the fish barrels, all looking a bit worse for wear. She tried to smile, but her lips felt slimy and she thought she might vomit instead.

"You didn't see them, they were never here," Bard said, and Elwen saw him slip the man a coin. "The fish you can have for nothing."

"Stay close," called Bard, rushing down the dock.

They followed him into the town proper. Elwen glanced around and saw people moving two and fro, carrying baskets of fish and mending nets, and everyone looking as though they had seen better days. Elwen was willing to bet that the man on the dock whom Bard had paid needed the fish almost as badly as the coin.

"Follow me," Bard said, pressing on.

"What is this place?" Bilbo asked, sounding nearly as fascinated as he did fearful. Everything must have looked so big to him.

"This, Master Baggins," Thorin replied, "is the world of Men."

The way he said it made Elwen think that he did not have a very high opinion of the world of Men.

They rounded a corner and found themselves in the open and in the hustle and bustle of the town. There were people everywhere, all far too busy with their duties to pay too much attention to them. Elwen glanced around in awe, as this was the only town she'd been in thus far on their journey that was full of people. She wondered what these people would see if they looked at her. Would the recognize her as part of their race, or would they see only an elf woman?

"Keep your heads down and keep moving," Bard said, ushering them all forward. "Quickly now."

Elwen looked down a lane and saw what must have been the market place. She wondered if she would be able to go back for a visit once the dragon was dispelled.

"Halt!"

Elwen's head whipped up. Down the lane, one of the guards with a stupid looking helmet began pointing and shouting at their group.

"In the name of the Master of Lake-town, I said halt!"

The company took off like a shot, weaving between stalls, Thorin leading the way. He stalled when at the end of an alleyway, another guard appeared.

"Get back!" Thorin shouted.

An all-out free for all was beginning. Elwen tried to stop them, but before she knew it, Ori was smashing a guard in the face, upending him completely. Another guard went sprawling over the leg of a dwarf, another was hit low by Balin and high by Thorin, and then Fili and Kili found a piece of rope and…well, there was nothing for it. They'd cause Bard no small amount of trouble, but this was a fight they were not going to lose.

Fili and Kili held the rope fast, and the guard screamed as he found himself flat on his back. When he tried to rise, Elwen smacked him in the face with a mop.

The townsfolk looked on as the company dragged the unconscious guards into various stalls. A middle-aged woman watched with a laughing smile on her face, and even leaned down to help Elwen haul one of the bodies away.

"We've no love for the Master's men," she whispered, winking at Elwen.

The company was tipped off to the arrival of more guards when the crowd of people dispersed and did their best to appear to be about their business.

"What's going on here?" one of them demanded, suspicious.

Thorin and Elwen exchanged a glance from where they were crouched, hidden in one of the stalls. She looked down at the leg of some kind of meat that Thorin was holding. He shrugged, and she made a face. Balin lifted the paddle he'd hit one of the guards with, ready to wield the weapon again if necessary. _Great_ , she thought. _There's guards after us and I'm the only one who's managed to keep their weapons. Maybe we'll just beat Smaug to death with a paddle and a frying pan._

"Stay where you are. Nobody leaves."

Elwen heard the guards booted steps. She unsheathed the knife at her belt slowly, just in case. She didn't want to kill anyone, but she also wasn't about to find what Lake-town had to offer in ways of a prison.

"Braga!" Bard said brightly. Elwen stiffened. She didn't want Bard being punished in someway because of them.

"You," growled Braga lowly. Elwen peaked around the side of her hiding spot and saw Bard standing alone facing several armed men. "What are you up to, Bard?"

"Me?" Bard asked. "Nothing."

In the stall next to her hiding spot, one of the guards began to stir. The woman who aided Elwen in hiding him nudged a clay planter pot off its shelf and onto the poor blokes face, sending him hurtling back into unconsciousness. _The people of Lake-town must_ really _hate this Master guy._

"Yeah," Braga said, clearly unconvinced. He pushed Bard out of the way and stomped toward the stalls.

A man laid a basket full of nets in front of the head of another unconscious guard, and another suddenly became covered in foliage. Elwen bit back a giggle. She rather liked these folk.

"Hey Braga," Bard said, pulling the man's attention back toward himself. Elwen had to stifle another giggle when she saw he was holding woman's undergarments. Thorin nudged her with his stick of meat, which almost made her laugh out loud. "Your wife would look lovely in this."

"What do you know of my wife?" Braga asked a bit stupidly.

"I know her as well as any man in this town."

Elwen's jaw dropped. Bard the bargeman, a smart-ass after her own heart.

Braga snatched the undergarments from Bard's hand and swatted him with them, shouldering his way back toward his men.

Elwen felt the tension in the air lift as the guards marched after Braga and out of sight.

* * *

They were careful to keep out of sight the rest of the way to Bard's home. They slipped through alleyways on quiet feet, avoiding people wherever they could. It was a good thing Bard was used to avoiding the Master's men, for trying to dodge them with a troop of dwarves on his heels was no easy feat.

"Da!"

Bard looked up when he heard his son Bain's voice. He was a thin lad of fourteen, his voice beginning to change from boys to man.

"Our house, it's being watched."

Bard had to think fast. How best to get the dwarves, Hobbit, and Elwen into his house without being seen?

The idea he came up with was not likely to make him more popular with the dwarves. _Especially the bald, tattooed one._

The elaborate signals of the Master's men were not lost on Bard or his son. In fact, they all seemed a bit ridiculous. He wodered if the Master knew how utterly inept his men, and by proxy, he was at running the town? He must have had some inkling, if he was so threatened by Bard that he was having his family spied on.

Bard and Bain climbed up the steps leading to the front door of their modest little home, carrying an arm full of groceries they'd picked up on the way. Before going inside, Bard whistled, drawing the attention of the two men on the lake below pretending to fish.

"You can tell the Master I'm done for the day," Bard said, dropping an onion into one of their laps before going inside.

"Da! Where have you been?" Tilda, his youngest, asked as she ran into his arms.

"Father! There you are. I was worried," said Sigrid, before embracing him in kind.

Sigrid was his oldest, and though Tilda was nearly eight year her junior, they looked like twins. _And just like their mother._

"Here, Sigrid," Bain said when she let go, handing her the leather satchel of food. He looked out the window to make sure soldiers were not marching to his door.

"Bain, get them in," he ordered, and the boy scurried off…to the toilet.

* * *

Three loud bangs on the wall. That was the signal. Dwalin would be first, and Elwen sorely wished to see his face as he lifted that big bald head of his out of the toilet.

She hadn't been thrilled with the plan, not at first. But Bard apologetically assured her it was clean enough, and she figured taking a small, all be it cold, swim might just be the trick to getting all the slimy fish guts off her.

"If you speak of this to anyone," Dwalin snarled darkly, to who Elwen was not sure, "I'll rip your arms off."

Elwen laughed and the rest of the company began filtering their way into Bard's home, Bain helping them out of the icy water.

"Da…why are there dwarves climbing out of our toilet?" asked a pretty young girl standing at the top of the stairs.

Elwen made her way upstairs and found herself in a cozy living space.

"Will they bring us luck?" asked a much younger girl, spitting image of the older.

"Quite the opposite!" Elwen said, doing her best to sound cheery though her teeth were chattering.

The little girl's eyes widened almost comically.

"Da! Da, there's an elf in our house!"

The boy, Bain, looked Elwen up and down. "Aren't you a little small to be an elf?"

Elwen looked at him flatly. "Half-elf, thanks."

The youngest girl gasped. "Is there such a thing?"

"I assure you, little one, that there is such a thing," Elwen said, reaching out and ruffling her hair a bit. "I am proof of that."

The first thing Elwen did was remove her socks and boots, placing them near the fire. She wiggled her toes and inspected them thoroughly for frostbite. It would be one thing for a dragon to kill her, but to lose toes to the cold? That's not what she signed up for.

"It may not be the best fit, but it'll keep you warm," said Bard as he was handing out clothes to the dwarves and Bilbo.

Elwen kept her clothes on and simply sat close to the fire, hoping to dry them off a bit. She smiled up at Bard when he wrapped a thick blanket around her shoulders. He smiled back at her, and once again she was struck by a sense of familiarity.

"Thank you very much," said Bilbo when Bard's littlest child, who had been introduced as Tilda, handed him a blanket.

Elwen looked up to see Thorin gazing out the window and rose to join him. She looked over his shoulder and saw he was looking almost longingly at a tower off in the town. There was some kind of weapon fastened to the top of the structure. She looked at her betrothed questioningly, as she'd never seen anything like it.

"A dwarvish windlance," he said, awe clear in his voice.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," said Elwen.

"He has," Balin said sadly, moving up behind them to get a better look. Elwen looked at him. "The last time we saw such a weapon, a city was on fire. It was the day the dragon came."

Elwen glanced at Thorin, who could not meet her gaze. His eyes looked far away, and she could only imagine the horrific scene he was reliving. Screaming and fire and broken buildings and bodies. She felt her eyes welling at the thought.

"The day that Smaug destroyed Dale, Girion, the lord of the city, rallied his bowman to fire upon the beast. But a dragon's hide is tough, tougher than the strongest armor. Only a black arrow, fired from a windlance, could have pierced the dragon's hide. And few of those arrows were ever made. His store was running low when Girion made his last stand."

"Had the aim of Men been true that day," Thorin said, looking at Elwen, "much would have been different."

"You speak as if you were there." Bard's voice was quiet, but his eyes were suspicious.

"All dwarves know the tale," Thorin replied as if it were obvious.

"Then you would know that Girion hit the dragon. He loosened a scale under the left wing. One more shot and he would have killed the beast," said Bain emphatically.

Dwalin chuckled. "That's a fairy story, lad. Nothing more."

Elwen was about to tell Dwalin he was far too old to be arguing with children when something across the room caught her eye. Sitting on a shelf was a hand sketched portrait encased in a simple frame made of light wood.

Elwen felt her insides freeze. She felt as though the front of her shirt had been ceased by invisible hands and began hauling her forward as she made her way across the room, pausing halfway. She was so focused on the picture, on what she saw, that she barely felt the blanket slip from her shoulders. She only became aware when a hand came down on her shoulder.

She looked up to see Bard. "Go and look," he urged, placing a hand on her back and guiding her forward.

Her senses narrowed. All she could feel was Bard's hand, and when they were standing right in front of the drawing, all she could see was the woman's smile. All she could hear was the pounding of her own heart.

Images flashed in front of her waking eyes. A woman with dark, earthy brown hair and laughing dark eyes. A voice singing a song Elwen had only heard in dreams.

 _It's her. It's the woman from my vision._

Her smile was toothy and fell somewhere between pleasant and predatory. Elwen had seen that same smile coming from Bard…and a million more times, coming from herself.

 _That's my smile. That's my facial shape, my nose, and lips._

"She was beautiful," Elwen whispered hoarsely.

"Yes, she was," said Bard, his voice achingly sad.

"Who was she to you?" Elwen asked.

What Bard said next broke something inside Elwen.

"My sister," Brad replied thickly. "My twin."

Elwen's legs gave way and an unexpected sob ripped from her throat. Bard caught her, keeping her from hitting the floor. The world tilted, and she found herself sucking in air hard and deep, feeling as though she could not catch her breath.

"Sigrid, a chair," Bard said. "Elwen has had a bit of a shock."

"Elwen?" the girl gasped, and Elwen heard the scraping of wood as she pulled a chair from beneath their kitchen table. " _The_ Elwen?"

She felt herself being pushed gently into a chair. The dwarves, who had initially rushed to help her, were now all standing unusually still and quiet. Fili, Kili, and Thorin moved to her side, but the rest of the company hung back, staring at the picture in shock.

"Are you alright?" Thorin asked, brushing a stay piece of wet, potty-watter hair from her face. Elwen found that she could not answer.

"Da, what's happening?" Tilda asked, sounding fearful.

Bard didn't reply, just squeezed Elwen's shoulder again.

She took a deep breath, wanting to slap herself. _Pull yourself together, you fool_ , she thought with difficulty. But it was too much. Finally, Elwen had found the limit in which her mind could be pushed.

It wasn't so long ago that Elwen hadn't even known that elves and dwarves and hobbits existed. She'd believed herself an orphan. She was no one. Now, everything she'd once thought fantasy had flickered to life before her very eyes. Now, she was a princess no longer lost. A king had fallen in love with her, and her father had all but disowned her, crushing her hopes of ever finding her family.

But now…now there was no going back.

 _I will never be no one again._

"I don't even know her name," Elwen said, looking at Bard and echoing the very words she had spoken to her father not so very long ago. This time, instead of being met with cold and distant eyes, Elwen was greeted by a smile so heartbrokenly sad, she found herself once again in tears.

"Brynn," said Bard quietly. "Your mother's name was Brynn."

* * *

 **Authors Note:**

 **Can anyone really believe I'm getting a chapter only two months after my last?! I'd fully intended this chapter to be done by December, but the holiday season was mental this year and I feel as though I'm still recovering! I hope you all had wonderful holidays, no matter what you celebrated, and started off the New Year well!**

 **Once again, thank you to everyone who has taken the time to favorite and follow this story! I am so glad to have so many readers who are enjoying my little hellion Elwen. Please please please don't hesitate to leave a review! I quite enjoy hearing from all of you. It really does help motivate me to write.**

 **What do you think about this little bombshell? I'm curious to know your reactions! Did any of you see it coming? What do you think the future holds for our sass machine? I'm really looking forward to the next few chapters. It won't be long till we are into Part 3! I can't believe it, but I'm so excited to see what you all think about where I plan to take the story!**

 **Shetan20: Thank you so much for the review! Hope you enjoyed, mate!**

 **Alright, thank you again for reading and please drop me a review! I truly appreciate it!**

 **Cheers- L**


	26. Chapter 26 The Only Right

**Chapter 26 The Only Right**

 _Brynn. Your mother's name was Brynn._

The words echoed in Elwen's mind, and she found herself whispering the name like a prayer as she cried. _I had a mother, and her name was Brynn._

"It's a beautiful name, lass," Bofur said kindly.

"But how can you be sure this Brynn is _our_ Elwen's mother?" Fili asked, concerned. "I don't want to see her heartbroken over a misunderstanding."

"I'd say the resemblance is proof enough, lad," Dwalin said dryly.

"I'm sure, Fili," Elwen said, wiping her face with her shirt. "I can't explain how I know, but I do."

Gloin muttered something about elven magic and the others nodded, not questioning her further. Only Kili looked at her as though he knew there was more to tell, but he stayed quiet. A look passed between Kili and Fili that told Elwen her assurances did nothing to dissuade their concern.

"I think we should talk," Bard said, giving the dwarves a pointed look. "Privately."

Elwen nodded and had begun to rise when Balin cleared his throat.

"I know how important this is to you, Elwen," said the old dwarf, sounding apologetic. "But before you and your…um…Bard step away, there is the matter of weapons to address."

"That cannot wait?" Bard asked, irritated. "I thought Elwen was your friend."

"She's more than our friend," Fili said defensively. "She's family."

Bard's eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Time is an issue, Master Bard," Thorin said with a politeness that would have surprised Elwen had she not already recently had one of the biggest shocks of her life.

"It's okay," Elwen said. "They're right; time isn't on our side, and the weapons will be important for the next part of the journey. We can talk while they inspect what you have."

Elwen could tell the bargeman was hesitant. He gave her a long look before turning to Thorin and nodding curtly

"Wait here," he instructed, and left out the rear of the house.

As soon as he was out the door, the company gathered around her chair and began to murmur away from the children.

"I'm sorry, my love," Thorin said tenderly, brushing her still damp hair away from her face. "But tomorrow begins the last days of autumn." Elwen squeezed his fingers to let him know she wasn't upset. She was glad that she would have a moment to herself with Bard while the others were concerning themselves with the weapons.

"Durin's Day falls morn after next. We must reach the mountain before then," Balin said.

"And if we do not?" Kili asked. "If we fail to find the hidden door before that time?"

"Then this quest has been for nothing," said Fili.

Bard's footsteps announced his approach, and the dwarves drew quiet once more. They gathered around a long table where he dropped a parcel in front of them. Thorin and Dwalin reached for the weapons, and Elwen let out a sigh. _Oh boy_ , she thought.

"What is this?" Thorin demanded, all guise of politeness gone as he held some kind of club with four hooks on the end that Elwen wasn't exactly sure what the hell it was.

"Pike-hook," said Bard. "Made from an old harpoon."

"And this?" Kili asked, looking at some kind of square shaped mallet.

"A crowbill, we call it. Fashioned from a smithy's hammer. It's heavy in hand, I grant, but in defense of your life, these will serve you better than none."

Elwen gave Bard a sympathetic glance. Judging from the looks on the dwarves faces, she could tell they didn't quite agree with that assessment. She couldn't lie; she was quite glad to have left the Woodland realm with swords, dagger, and bow in hand.

"We paid you for weapons," Gloin said slowly, as if Bard were dim. "Iron-forged swords and axes!"

"It's a joke!" Bofur tossed what he was holding down onto the table. Elwen raised an eyebrow. She wasn't even sure what that was.

One by one, the dwarves threw down their weapons, all giving Bard a look of disgust.

"Thorin," Elwen said softly. "They aren't that bad."

"We cannot fight with these!" he hissed. "I know he is your kin, Elwen, but-"

"You won't find better outside the city armory," Bard snapped. "All iron-forged weapons are held there under lock and key."

"Thorin. Why not take what's been offered and go?" Balin reasoned. "I've made do with less. So have you. I say we leave now."

"You're not going anywhere."

The company turned to Bard.

"What did you say?" Dwalin growled lowly.

"There are spies watching this house and probably every dock and wharf in the town. You must wait till nightfall."

Thorin opened his mouth as though to argue, but Elwen stood, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"He's right," she said firmly. "You saw what happened when we entered the town. We will _not_ put Bard or his children at risk. We wait." She turned toward Bard. "We'll let them examine the, um, weapons, which he was kind to give us." Elwen turned to glare at the others, Dwalin in particular. The bald dwarf simply huffed and crossed his arms. She turned back to Bard. "Do you think we can talk?"

Bard paused, eyeing the dwarves and Bilbo as if he didn't believe they would actually stay put. Elwen didn't blame him; she was fairly sure they wouldn't. Eventually though, he nodded.

"Pull that blanket around your shoulders and over your head," he suggested. "If anyone is watching the house, they'll think you're one of the girls."

Thorin reached for her hand and squeezed. "Are you alright alone?" he asked. "Do you want me to come?"

Elwen shook her head. "I'll be alright," she assured him with a smile.

With that, the pair stepped out onto a back deck, Elwen pulling the blanket tightly around her, though it did nothing to lessen the bite of the cold. They stood in silence for a long moment, neither knowing where to start.

"So," Elwen hedged. "You're my uncle."

"So it would seem," he replied, then added, "I was told you were dead."

Elwen scowled. "You and everyone else," she muttered. "It's the story _he_ told everyone, apparently."

Bard frowned.

Elwen told Bard her story, beginning with meeting Gandalf (she left out the fact that their meeting place hadn't been in Middle-earth) and being introduced to the dwarves. She left out the true purpose of their journey; it wasn't her place to tell him, and Thorin was being particularly secretive. She did, however, tell him of their many misadventures. His eyes widened when she told him of the magic that stripped her of memory and that what she'd lost was only partially restored in Rivendell.

"I should have known better than to trust Thranduil," Bard said angrily. "I would never have consented. I should have pressed harder, but I was so overcome with grief at the loss of you and your mother, I didn't think…I'm so sorry, Elwen."

Elwen smiled sadly. She believed this man, who was already looking at her as though she were loved.

"Why did Lord Elrond take you?" Bard asked, and Elwen winced slightly. He had no idea what a complicated question that was, and there were no simple answers.

"Lord Elrond and Lady Galadriel believed I was destined for something greater than Thranduil could offer," she replied heavily. "Thranduil told me it was what my mother wanted. It was her dying wish. To achieve that destiny, it was best I was raised away from…everything."

Elwen swallowed thickly. Bard reached out and pulled her close, hugging her for the first time as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do.

Her answers weren't lies, but they were hardly the whole truth. There was too much to explain, especially when she was only beginning to grasp the importance of her being returned to Middle-earth. How could she explain it to this stranger who was not a stranger when she was not sure she understood it all herself?

She wondered if it should feel so natural to embrace someone she'd only just met. But to her, he wasn't a stranger. She'd known from the moment she laid eyes on him that they were connected in some way, just as she had when she and Legolas had locked eyes in the forest, and she'd been brought before King Thranduil.

She tightened her arms around his middle and marveled at the fact that she was being held by someone whose blood flowed through her veins. They had the same roots, the same history. Family. Yes, the dwarves had welcomed her with open arms and claimed her as kin, and she would forever be grateful. But here was someone who had loved her mother. Who had likely loved Elwen from the moment she was born, and who was not putting conditions on that love. Perhaps her father and brother would never accept her, but she didn't need it. Not now.

"They don't know," Elwen whispered, looking up into Bard's dark eyes. Her mother's eyes, she knew. _Oh, how I wish I had those eyes._ "The dwarves and Bilbo; they don't know he's my father."

"Why?" Bard asked, pulling back to see Elwen's face. "Not that I blame you."

Elwen laughed. Bard wasn't exactly the president of the King Thranduil fan club.

"I tried, but he was not kind to the dwarves when we were in his realm. I wasn't sure how they would react. I'm still not."

Bard looked worried. "I'm not sure that is a secret you're going to be able to keep for long."

Elwen winced. "I know, and I'll tell them. Just not yet. I…I'm not ready."

There were many things that lay ahead she wasn't ready for, a dragon being at the top of the list. _Best not to mention the dragon._

Bard looked as though he'd like to ask questions, but something caught his eye. He reached out and touched the courting braid.

"After all this time, I find you not only alive, but betrothed as well?" he shook his head. "I have missed your entire life. So, I assume it's the cranky black haired one. Thorin is his name? Why could you not choose one of the younger dwarves? They seem to have a better disposition."

Elwen giggled, thrilled that she had an uncle to tease her. She explained that Kili was her dearest friend, and that Fili had offered her Kin's Rights and what all that entailed.

"And how did you and this Thorin become so close?" he asked archly, and Elwen blushed.

"I suppose that's a long story as well?" he asked, winking at her. He put an arm around her shoulders when she blushed. "There will be plenty of time for stories," he said, dropping a kiss to the top of her head.

From the moment Bard had found out who she was, he'd begun treating her like one of his own. She'd been devastated by the confrontation with her father and had convinced herself she'd never have someone look at her that way. But now she had an uncle who truly seemed to care for her, and cousins! It almost seemed too good to be true.

Bard looked over his shoulder into the house and frowned.

"Do you think you can keep them here?" Bard asked. "I need to go into town for a moment, and they seem much too eager to leave. It's too risky."

Elwen bit her lip. "I'll try," she said. It was the best she could offer. "Do you have to go? I have so many questions…about my mother."

Bard smiled. "As I said, we'll have plenty of time for stories now that you're home."

 _Home_.

Elwen's chest began to ache and she had to blink back tears. He didn't know that they were running out of time, that if they did not reach the mountain by the end of Durin's Day, they would miss their chance at finding the hidden door. Everything they'd gone through, all the miles they'd traversed, it would be for not.

Elwen couldn't abandon them. Now when lives depended on it.

Elwen and Bard went back inside to find most of the company milling around, speaking secretly. Elwen gave them a look. _They are definitely planning an escape._ The only dwarf not conspiring was Kili. He'd sat down on a bench next to the window, looking pale and shaking with pain. Elwen sat next to him after Bard had a quick word with his son and left.

"Are you alright?" Elwen asked softly. She examined the wound on his leg and saw he'd nearly bled through the bandages.

Kili moved his leg away. "I'm fine," he said, his voice sharp. Elwen was taken aback; Kili had never used that tone with her.

"Kili…I'm sorry. About what happened back at the Woodland Realm. That isn't how I would have had you find out if it were my choice."

"Would you have told me at all?" he whirled on her. "Or would I have found out at your wedding."

Elwen blanched. "Kili…"

She didn't know what to say. What could she say? Kili cared for her, and she was marrying another. His uncle, no less! She deserved whatever he threw at her.

"We have more important things to worry about," Kili said, then louder he added, "We cannot wait for nightfall, and I don't think we should leave town straight away."

Thorin and the others turned toward them. Elwen's eyes narrowed.

"What do you have in mind, brother?" Fili asked with a grin.

"I don't like where this is going," Elwen said lowly.

A grin snaked it's away across Kili's face, and she once again became aware that the brothers more than earned their reputation for mischief.

"We're going to need a diversion."

* * *

Tauriel moved quickly across stone slick with blood from the carcass of a discarded deer. She wrinkled her nose at the tangy smell of copper in the air left behind by the orcs slaughter. Flies had only begun to gather and it didn't seem as though carrion birds had begun to scavenge the leftovers. A recent kill, which meant she was gaining on them despite their considerable lead.

She looked down river, listening, and stiffened. The slightest sound of a boot scuffing on rock, too light for man or beast to hear. The hairs rose on the back of her neck with the sensation of being watched. Tauriel had trained for centuries in order to be Captain of the Guard. _I will not be taken unaware_ , she thought, tightening her grip on a knocked arrow.

Tauriel whirled, crouching low at first, aiming for the heart of whatever creature stalked her from behind. She nearly laughed when she saw Legolas, bow raised.

"Ingannen le orch," Tauriel called over the sound of rushing water. _I thought you were an orc._

"Ci orch im," the prince replied slowly. "Dangen le." _If I were an orc, you would be dead._ Legolas lowered his weapon, stepping toward her. "Tauriel, you cannot hunt thirty orcs on your own."

"But I'm not on my own."

Legolas smiled slightly. "You knew I would come."

Tauriel grinned. Yes, she had known he would come. She had grown up with Legolas, fighting and exploring their insular world together. The prince was short tempered, much like his father, but was loyal to a fault. There was no way he would let her run off on her own trying to chase down a pack of orc. Though she knew he would take some convincing if she were going to have him join her on the hunt.

"The king is angry, Tauriel," Legolas continued. "For six hundred years my father has protected you, favored you." He moved closer, his voice grave. "You defied his orders; you betrayed his trust. Dandolo nan in…e gohenatha." _Come back with me…he will forgive you._

"U-ohenathon. Ci dadwenithon, u-ohenathon im." _But I will not. If I go back, I will not forgive myself._ "The king has never let orc-filth roam our lands," Tauriel said as she stalked nearer to the river's edge. "Yet he would let this orc pack cross our borders and kill our prisoners. Your _sister_."

"It is not our fight, and Elwen made her choice."

The pain in his voice spoke to a deep wound within her friend. She couldn't imagine what a shock it had been to find his sister alive, but also to find she had no idea he'd ever existed. _And now she's gone, but it's not too late to find her before the orcs do._

"It is our fight. It will not end here. With every victory, this evil will grow. If your father has his way, we will do nothing. We will hide within our walls, live our lives away from the light, and let darkness descend. Are we not part of this world?"

For the first time, Tauriel begin to see fear in Legolas' eyes. For he too felt the shadows stirring, an enemy growing near. And he still loved his sister, no matter if she love him in return.

"Tell me, _mellon_ , when did we let evil become stronger than us?" Tauriel demanded, unrelenting. "And she did not choose the dwarves over you, Legolas," she added softly, reaching for his arm and squeezing lightly. "She did not want to turn her back on those she cared for. Are you going to turn your back on her? Because I cannot. It is my duty to protect the princess, now that I know I can."

Legolas looked away, taking a deep breath as if to steady himself. When his eyes once again found Tauriel's, she had to choke back tears.

"I promised her when she was just a babe that I would always keep her safe," he spoke so quietly, had Tauriel not the hearing of an elf, his voice would have been drowned out by swiftly flowing water. "I failed her twenty-five years ago, but I will not fail her again." Blue eyes grew hard, his jaw tightening with determination.

"Let's go."

* * *

Bard came up on the shop at a jog, breathing hard, not from exertion, but from fear. Ever since hearing the name of the black haired dwarf, his nieces betrothed, something had been tickling at the back of his mind. A feeling of dread had been growing and growing since he fled his home looking for answers. He knew that name, Thorin, somehow someway. But where had he heard it? It was the edge of a memory he could not quite grasp.

"Ello', Bard. What you after?" asked the storekeep called Macon.

"There was a tapestry!" Bard called in reply, hands already digging through the various fabrics laid out on display. "An old one! Where's it gone?"

"What tapestry you talkin' about?"

Bard lifted up an old, worn fabric made of blue and gold thread.

"This one."

He laid it out quickly, desperately unfolding the piece of hanging art in order to see the names clearly. This tapestry held names of generations of the dwarves of Erebor. The Line of Durin. Much of it was written in the secret language of the dwarves, but the names were clear enough in the common tongue.

"There were dwarves, I tell you." Bard looked up when he heard a woman, Hilda, speaking to others on the dock. "Appeared out of nowhere. Full beards, fierce eyes; I've never seen the like. And an elf girl as well! She didn't have a beard, of course."

"What are dwarves doin' in these parts?" asked one of the fisherman. "And traveling with an elf, no less!"

"It's the prophecy," said an old man sitting in a boat still tied to the dock.

"Prophecy?"

"The prophecy of Durin's folk," the old man replied.

Bard ran his hand down the fabric, pausing below the image of Thrain, down to his children…

And there he was.

Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror.

His niece was betrothed to no ordinary dwarf on his way to see his kin. No…

Elwen is to marry the King Under the Mountain.

"The prophecy…" Bard backed away from the tapestry as it if were poison. He ran a hang across his mouth, in utter disbelief. "Prophecy…"

"The old tales will come true," someone said excitedly

"Vast halls of treasure!" cried a woman.

"Silver and gold and jewels beyond measure!"

"Can you imagine? Can it really be true? Has the lord of silver fountains returned?"

Bard knew the words. They had been passed down to him by his grandfather, and from his grandfather before him. And he knew them for what they were; not only a prediction of the future, but a warning.

"The lord of silver fountains…the king of carven stone. The king beneath the mountain shall come into his own." Bard repeated the words to himself, a terror so fierce filling his chest he thought it might burst.

He turned and fled the shop, racing for home, praying that he was not too late, all the while the words of the prophecy echoing through his mind, this foretelling of a king, this omen of doom.

 _And the bells shall ring in gladness at the mountain king's return. But all shall fail in sadness and the lake will shine and burn._

Bard threw open the door, quickly met by his son.

"Da! I tried to stop them!" Bain said.

"How long have they been gone?" Bard demanded.

"Not long," he replied, following his father out the door. "Da, she told me to tell you…" Bain paused, and Bard stopped on the deck outside his house.

"To tell me what?" he asked, angry. He'd asked her to keep them there, he'd asked her…

"Elwen tried to keep them here, she really did!" Bain said emphatically, shaking his head. "They wouldn't listen, even after she called them all sorts of names. She really is scary when she's mad, Da. She told me to tell you that she was sorry, and that she'd be back. She promised that she would be back."

But Bard knew she would not. Not if she entered that mountain. _If she goes into that mountain, she will burn with all the rest, and I cannot let that happen_ , he thought, and raced into the coming night.

* * *

Thorin had seen Elwen in many states of distress. He'd seen her fearful and sad and perhaps even morose. But never had he seen her so outraged as when Kili had suggested they leave her uncles home against his instruction. She'd jumped to her feet and leaned over his youngest nephew menacingly enough that he'd tried to back further up onto the bench and away from her reach. He didn't get far with an injured leg.

"Bard said we were to wait till nightfall, did none of you blockheads hear him?" she'd demanded, turning a blazing eye on the rest of the company so heated that it would have put Smaug the Terrible to shame. "There are spies watching this house! _Spies!_ Have you all rocks in your ears?!"

Dwalin had poked Thorin in the back, shoving him toward the angry woman. He went forward reluctantly, holding out his hands in a gesture of peace. He was quite glad she didn't have a stick handy, though her swords and dagger were well within her reach…

"Perhaps that's all the more reason to go, Elwen," Thorin reasoned. "Would we not cause trouble for him and his family if we are caught here?"

"Oh, more than the trouble he'd be in if we're caught _leaving_? You know, _by the spies_?"

Thorin flinched in the face of her fury.

"We won't get caught, little sister," Fili said. "If we got in through the toilet, I don't see why we can't get out the same way."

Dwalin groaned.

"I'll shove you in the toilet alright," Elwen threatened darkly. "Face first! And don't you 'little sister' me! That's not a way to get what you want!" Thorin could see her icy anger melting, however.

"I do not want to cause any more trouble for your kin than we already have," Thorin said, touching her chin lightly, making sure his fingers were away from any snapping teeth should she be tempted to bite. "But we've not a moment to spare, and we need weapons. Kili's idea is sound."

Elwen's shoulders sagged, and the anger gave way to a sadness that made him ache for her. She had just found her family and did not want to leave them so soon.

"We'll be back," he vowed. "As soon as the dragon is gone, we will return and I will beg Bard's forgiveness if I have to. He and his children will be honored guests of Erebor whenever they like. You will not be without them for long, dear one. I swear it."

Thorin meant what he said. He would do whatever he had to in order for his One to be happy. She had gone through so much in life with so little choice in the matter, he would not separate her from what family she had left. He would make sure none of Bard's anger landed on her. He would take the blame for it all. And Kili. It had been Kili's idea, after all.

After a moment of contemplation, Thorin saw the moment she caved. She turned to the boy, Bain.

"Tell Bard I tried, and that they're idiots," Elwen said. A few of the others looked offended, but no one dared correct her. "Tell him I'm sorry, and that I'll be back. I promise I'll be back."

They had indeed been able to slip away unnoticed by way of the toilet, though Dwalin was none too happy about it. They were once more cold and wet, but at least they were free to continue on their way to the mountain. But not before they made a small stop at the city armory.

"Can you see anything?" whispered Bilbo.

"Shhh!" hissed Oin. "Keep it down."

"Oh, that's rich coming from you," Elwen hissed.

"As soon as we have the weapons, we make straight for the mountain," Thorin said softly to the company, who were gathered outside of the building they'd discovered to be the armory.

It turned out they didn't need a diversion after all. There were no guards posted outside, and so they were able to devise a scheme in which to enter from the back undetected.

Thorin gave the go ahead, and one by one the dwarves climbed up the makeshift living ladder of bodies to a small window where they hoisted themselves inside. Elwen had refused to be part of this ladder when asked, saying that anyone who tried to step on her would go straight into the lake. She was not asked twice.

"Next," said Thorin, and off went the hobbit.

One by one, select members of the company made their way into the dark, cold building, and what they found was a veritable treasure trove of iron forged weapons ready for the taking. They reached for whatever seemed preferable, Thorin weighing a few swords in hand to see how they felt. None were equal to dwarfish steel, of course, and certainly not the same quality Orcrist had been, but they would do. _Funny_ , Thorin thought. _I never thought I would miss that sword_. But standing there holding an inferior weapon, he found that he did miss it indeed. Gandalf had been right; he would never find a finer blade."

They began piling weapons into the waiting arms of Kili, who seemed to be struggling under their weight. Thorin frowned, noticing how pale the younger dwarf had grown. Was infection settling in? He wasn't sure that the wound on Kili's leg had ever stopped bleeding.

Thorin reached out to Kili, halting him for a moment.

"You alright?" Thorin murmured.

"I can manage," Kili replied defensively, his dark eyes briefly cutting to Elwen then back to Thorin. "Let's just get out of here."

But as he was trying to make his way down the stairs, his injured leg gave way. He groaned as he toppled down the stairs, various swords and axes and knives flying from his hand and crashing to the floor with the resounding sound of metal on wood. Elwen flew past Thorin and leaped down the stairs two at a time, no doubt terrified that Kili had managed to get himself impaired.

For a moment, all was quiet and still, and he briefly thought that perhaps they'd gotten lucky. But then the shouting began, and he knew they were in for it.

"Run!" Dori cried from outside. They heard guards shouting and footsteps pounding up the stairs.

Thorin, Bofur, and Bilbo all reached for the spears still on the wall, but when they turned around, they found several swords leveled at their throats. He heard Elwen curse down below, and he fought the instinct to go to her. He was beginning to tire of his One being manhandled everywhere they went. Though she could take care of herself just fine, it would always be instinct to protect her, and not being able to reach her gnawed at him.

Thorin dared a peak down the stairs and was furious to see two guards holding daggers to Elwen and Kili's necks. Kili looked up at him with a face full of shame, but Thorin simply shook his head. It wasn't his fault; Thorin had known that leg was bothering him. He should not have chosen him to carry such a heavy burden.

The company was roughly lead down the docks to some sort of town square. Elwen cursed them the whole way, words so fowl Thorin would have blushed if he were not so angry himself. Even Dori was encouraging her with a, "You tell em', Lady Elwen!"

"Get off me!" Dwalin snarled, trying to jerk himself away from one of the men as they were shoved along.

They were stopped in front of a large building with two dingy but thick doors. The guards posted outside opened the doors and a large man with a rather unbecoming mustache emerged, chins wobbling, followed by a smaller man with eyebrows that stretched all the way across his face.

"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded, shrugging on an oversized coat.

"We caught em' stealing weapons, sire," said the guard in charge, his voice coming out more of a croak.

"Ah," replied the man, who appeared to be the master of the town. "Enemies of the state, hmm?"

"A desperate bunch of mercenaries if ever there was, sire," said the man with the unfortunate brow. He was a small, stooped man with bad pasture and worse teeth.

"Mercenaries my arse!" Elwen shouted. "Shut your gob and go wax your eyebrow, you toad!"

"Yes, hold your tongue," Dwalin demanded of the little man. The warrior stepped forward. "You do not know to whom you speak. This is no common criminal." Dwalin gestured toward Thorin, impassioned. "This is Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror!"

He had little choice but to step forward and address the crowd himself. A murmur of recognition went through the crowd, for none had forgotten the great Kings of the Dwarves.

"We are the dwarves of Erebor," said Thorin, lifting his face proudly. The square became filled with whispers. "We have come to reclaim our homeland." The weight of what he was saying settled on the crowd. Thorin moved toward the stairs, speaking directly to the townsfolk. "I remember this town and the great days of old. Fleets of boats lay at harbor, filled with silks and fine gems. This was no forsaken town on a lake! This was the center of all trade in the north!"

The whispering became a low buzz of excitement.

"I would see those days return," Thorin proclaimed loudly, scanning the crowd, looking at no one but speaking to all. "I would relight the great forges of the dwarves and send wealth and riches flowing once more from the halls of Erebor!"

The crowd broke into an uproarious applause, and Thorin's chest swelled with pride. To see the people who had once belong to Dale welcome he and his kin…he never thought he'd see the day. Elwen smirked up at the guard who'd shoved her into the square and jerked her arm away from him. But the smile slipped off her face when a figure cut through the crowd.

"Death!" cried Bard. "That is what you will bring upon us." He stepped between Bilbo and Elwen, speaking straight to Thorin. "Dragon-fire and ruin. If you awaken that beast, it will destroy us all."

"You can listen to this naysayer," Thorin countered quickly, not wanting to lose the crowd, "but I promise you this; if we succeed, all will share in the wealth of the mountain. You will have enough gold to rebuild Esgaroth ten times over!"

Once more, the crowd cheered, and the company nodded along in assurance. All but Elwen, who was looking to her uncle, her face conflicted. Could she be persuaded to think their mission at the mountain was in error? Could this man, this relative stranger, sway her from their cause? _From me?_

"Why should we take you at your word, eh?" said the small man standing with the Master of the town, giving Thorin a scathing look. "We know nothing about you. Who here can vouch for your character?"

All was quiet and still for just a moment. As repulsive as the man was, Thorin had to admit he had a point. These folk were not the men and woman of Dale, but their descendants. They knew not of him or his kin, and he did not expect them to them to take him at his word.

"Me," came a voice. "I'll vouch for him."

Thorin turned toward the voice, her voice, feeling as though his heart had leapt into his throat.

"I've traveled far with these dwarves through great danger, and if Thorin Oakenshield gives his word…" Elwen paused, looking at him in a way that made him feel as though he could move mountains, kill a dragon with his bare hands, do anything and everything. And he would do, if only to be worthy of the absolute faith shining in her eyes. "If Thorin Oakenshield gives his word, then he will keep it." She looked at her uncle, her eyes pleading forgiveness that he knew she would not ask for. "Believe in him, Bard. He has to do this. _We_ have to do this."

He simply shook his head.

"All of you!" he urged the crowd. "Listen to me! You must listen! Have you forgotten what happened to Dale!?" Bard demanded. "Have you forgotten those who died in the firestorm!?"

"NO!" someone shouted. "We haven't."

"And for what purpose?" Bard turned to Thorin with a contemptuous eye. "The blind ambition of a mountain king so riven by greed, he could not see beyond his own desire!"

Dwalin lunged forward and was held back by the others. Elwen looked stricken as Thorin whirled on Bard, prepared to come to blows if necessary. She shoved her guard away and ran, jumping in between the two before either could lift a hand to the other.

"Please," she said, looking from one to the other. "Please, don't."

"Now, now, we must not, any of us, be too quick to lay blame," the Master called over the ruckus, quieting the crowd. "Let us not forget that it was Girion, Lord of Dale, _your_ ancestor," he said to Bard, "who failed to kill the beast, hmm!"

Thorin's eyes widened. This Bard was blood kin to Lord Girion? Now that Thorin fully looked at the man, he could see the resemblance. At one point, he'd known Girion well, having dealt with business in the city often for his grandfather.

 _And if Bard is Girion's kin, that means_ …

He looked at Elwen, who had gone white as a sheet. How had he never seen Girion when she'd smiled at him? Or had he? Hadn't he always wondered why she felt so familiar to him?

"Is it true?" Elwen asked Bard quietly, but he only stood in stony silence. Thorin flinched. How much would Elwen's love for the dwarves of Erebor cost her, and how long would she be willing to pay that price?

"It's true, sire," replied the Master's companion. Bard gave the man a look so vicious, Thorin was struck by just how much he and Elwen favored. He'd seen grown dwarves quail beneath that look. "We all know the story. Arrow after arrow he shot, each one missing its mark."

Bard chose not to answer; he simply strode forward and around his niece until he was hovering above Thorin.

"You have no right," he said, his voice a raspy growl. "No right to enter that mountain."

Thorin understood Bard's fear, for he himself had once seen a great kingdom fall and burn to the dragon's rage. But Durin's Day was fast approaching, and he knew this was their only chance. If he did not fight for his homeland, who would? If not now, there would never be another chance. Not while he lived. He recalled the words he'd said to Balin back in the Shire. _From my grandfather to my father, this has come to me,_ he'd said, holding the key that would take him home, given to him by the woman he would slowly fall in love with somewhere along the way. _They dreamt of the day when the dwarves of Erebor would reclaim their homeland. There is no choice, Balin. Not for me._

There was still no choice, not for him, nor would their ever be.

"I have the only right," he said to Bard, hoping the man would someday understand. From the set of his jaw, Thorin knew that he likely would not.

"I speak to the Master of the men of the Lake," Thorin said, looking up the stairs. He knew his type; a man grown fat and rich off the taxes and bounty of his people without ever having to lift a finger. The promise of gold, and lots of it, would be enough to sway this arrogant fool. Though he was sure once Elwen was queen, she would make sure he saw none of it. "Will you see the prophecy fulfilled? Will you share in the great wealth of our people?"

The man was quiet for a tense moment, seemingly weighing his options.

"What say you?" Thorin demanded loudly.

The master licked his lips and smiled, pointing emphatically to Thorin.

"I say unto you…welcome! Welcome and thrice welcome, King under the Mountain!"

 **Authors Note:**

 **Well it took me far longer than I'd wanted but here it is! The next installment of Elwen's little adventure, and things seem to be heating up for her. Did any of you see the reveal that she was related to Bard coming? I realize that it's a bit convenient, but I love the tension it creates! This chapter was quite fun to write, as I really enjoy Bard's character.**

 **I'm sorry if my uploads aren't as consistent as I would like. Keep in mind this takes quite a bit of time to write and get to a place I'm happy with. I've also got an entire life, full time job, original writing I'm working on, etc. etc., so this isn't always priority number one. But the time I do have to dedicate to this is well spent, and some of the most fun I get to have because I simply adore these characters. And I love putting Elwen in situations that make her cranky!**

 **Also, keep in mind that I am EVENTUALLY going to do a sweep of the ENTIRE story once it's done and re-upload every single chapter once I've made them as perfect as I can. I go back to re-read periodically and long to correct some word choices and typos I've found. But I won't be doing that until the entire story is finished!**

 **Please keep reading and reviewing and supporting the story! It really makes me feel great to know people enjoy what I'm doing. I love reading reviews and hearing your theories for the stories, so keep them coming!**

 **Tibblets: Thank you! I hope the story stays interesting and engaging to you!**

 **Anastasia Slytherin: Thank you! I'm sorry I've taken so long to get this up, but there is more to come soon! Also, LOVE the name. I am a fellow Slytherin myself!**

 **Guest: Wow omg thank you! That means so much to me! I'm glad that it held your attention and that you enjoyed! Please come back for more and let me know how I'm doing!**

 **Alright lords and lassies, I hope that you're all doing well and I will hopefully talk to you all much sooner rather than later!**

 **Cheers, L**


	27. Chapter 27 We Have Tonight

**Chapter 27 We Have Tonight**

When the Master of Lake-town called for a feast, Elwen's first thought was _that greasy looking bastard could do with skipping a feast or two._

The company was given lodging at an inn, and soon they were all seated at a long table in the great room. She was sat between Fili and Balin, staring down at a plate full of food she absolutely didn't want to eat. Kili had chosen to sit on the other side of the table, away from her, and Thorin was at the head of the table with the master and his creepy ass sidekick. Elwen felt lost, ashamed, and simply wanted to go to sleep and pretend the whole business was already over and done.

Guilt settled in her stomach like a stone, making her feel sick and unsettled. She'd known when she stepped forward and spoke for Thorin, vouching for his word, that she just might be burning a bridge between her and Bard. But it had been instinct, to believe in the person she loved, to defend him when his character came into question. She didn't regret it, yet she couldn't help but feel sorry for herself. This was the second time she'd chosen the dwarves over her own kin, and it wasn't fair. She shouldn't have to choose.

She couldn't help but wonder if Bard might be right. Was going to the mountain a mistake? These were her mother's people, her flesh and blood. Bard and his children had accepted her into their home with open arms, so different from the reception she'd gotten in the Woodland Realm. How would she repay them? With fire and death?

Thorin had been so quick to promise wealth beyond measure. He'd played to the master's greed without so much as a second thought, not even pausing to consider the risk they were causing to the people Lake-town. He seemed to have a singular thought; getting to the mountain and retrieving the Arkenstone.

Words echoed in her mind, words she'd heard what felt like an age ago. _Have you forgotten a strain of madness runs deep in that family? His grandfather lost his mind. Can you swear Thorin Oakenshield will not also fall?_

No, she could not.

Elwen meant what she'd said to Thorin that night. He didn't have to succumb to the madness as his grandfather had before him. She still believed that, but there was no denying that the closer they drew to that mountain, the more she worried. His mind was becoming totally consumed, and she didn't know what she would do if she lost him to madness. All of his promises were well and good, but what use would they be if they all died and Lake-town was ash and dust?

 _You have no right to enter that mountain._ Bard wasn't wrong, not with the risks so high.

 _I have the only right._ Thorin wasn't wrong either.

This was his only chance to reclaim his home. Who was she to tell him he shouldn't? If it wasn't for him, Elwen would never have discovered who she was or where she came from. She'd given her word that she would help the dwarves reclaim their kingdom. _A kingdom I will someday help him rule, if we survive._

But she didn't _need_ it. The only thing she needed was Thorin. As long as she had him, she would be content to live a quiet, normal life.

A booming laugh came from the end of the table. Bombur was entertaining by catching various bits of food in his mouth. She looked at her friends and was glad to see them enjoying their time together. Everyone was smiling and laughing, even Kili, though he avoided her gaze. It was as if they thought this might be their last chance to be merry with one another. Perhaps it was.

Elwen's visions had never shown the others. Aside from herself, she had only ever seen Fili, Kili, Thorin, and Bilbo. Would the others make it through whatever was to come? She still did not yet know how she was to save the sons of Durin, let alone anyone else.

There had been no sightings of Azog since before they sought refuge with Beorn. He had not been with the orcs in Mirkwood, but…

The realization hit Elwen like a train. Her eyes went wide and she bit back a scream as she looked at Kili. The orc on the bridge, the big one what had been shouting orders at the rest. In all the chaos and the blur of battle, she hadn't realized.

Elwen had seen that orc before. In a vision, running Kili through with a mace.

"Is the food not to your liking, my Lady Elwen?" asked the master. The mention of her name jerked her out of the fog that seemed to have settled over her.

"The food?" she asked, blinking. Fili reached out under the table and gave her leg a squeeze, asking her if she was alright. The others were looking at her with concern, even Kili.

"My apologies," she said, feigning a smile. "I seem to find myself without appetite." It was true, more or less.

"You need to eat, lass," Balin chided softly. "You'll need your strength come morning."

She tried to give Balin a grateful smile, but it came off more as a grimace. She did not want to think about what tomorrow would bring.

"I find your choice of companions curious, King Thorin. A Halfling, and an elf," said the master's man, the creepy one eye browed fellow who had been introduced as Alfrid.

Elwen didn't like Alfrid, not at all. He was a slinky, untrustworthy little worm and she'd not cared for how he'd treated her uncle. At least when she was queen, she might have some ability to deal with the man.

Bard hadn't mentioned their familial connection. After the master welcomed the company, thrice in fact, Bard had simply walked away. She hadn't gone after him; she didn't know what to say. And she didn't want the master and Alfrid to know he was her uncle. If they knew who her mother was, surely they would know her father, and that was a secret she'd quite like to keep for now.

"Why does an elf woman travel with a group such as yourselves, and unchaperoned at that?" asked the master.

"Because she wishes to," Elwen replied coolie.

"My nephew acts as chaperone," Thorin said quickly. "He has claimed Kin's Rights." There was a brief explanation as to what that entailed, and the men of Lake-town nodded, satisfied. Sexist pigs.

"I joined the company, along with Master Baggins, when I found out how far they would be traveling. I wished to see the world."

More half-truths.

"And where do you hail from?" the master asked. She looked to Thorin with panicked eyes, unsure how to answer.

"Elwen comes from Rivendell," replied Thorin smoothly. She sighed, relieved.

"So far from home," the master mused.

 _You have no idea_ , she thought, taking a sip of wine.

The master turned to address Fili. "As she belongs to your household, I suggest finding her a suitable husband. To form a strong alliance."

Elwen's face barely made it back over her goblet before she spat out the wine.

"Pardon me?" she croaked. Why that old, fat, slimy son of a-

"There are many eligible bachelors here in Lake-town," the master plowed ahead, either ignoring her or completely unaware of the death glare she and the others were giving him. Fili unconsciously began to squeeze her leg tighter and tighter, and she was pretty sure Dwalin accidentally broke a plate. Elwen thought it showed just how far she'd come concerning her temper considering she hadn't leapt across the table to stab him yet.

"I myself, and also Alfrid here, are…unattached." He patted the corners of his mouth with a dirty napkin, and Alfrid licked his lips and smiled at her.

Elwen picked up a spoon. _I'll scoop out their eyeballs and shove them so far down their throats, they'll be able to see out their arses…_

"Elwen is spoken for," Fili snarled menacingly.

"Oh?" Alfrid said, raising an eyebrow. "By whom, may I ask?"

"To our king."

It was Kili who spoke. His tone was flat and his face utterly absent of the smile that had moments ago spread across his handsome face. He didn't look at anyone, just stared down at his half empty plate. She hadn't noticed that he, too, hadn't been hungry.

"Apologies," said the master, not sounding sorry at all. "And my congratulations! I look forward to celebrating your union once this dragon business is taken care of."

Elwen stood, her chair scraping against the stone floor.

"Excuse me," she muttered, turning on her heels and walking away without another word. A hot bath had been promised, and that sounded far better than pretending to eat with that pompous windbag. _As if I'd invite that asshole to my wedding._

* * *

Elwen left the room the inn set aside for bathing and was nearing her room when a voice called out from down the hallway.

"There you are!"

She turned toward the deep, rich voice and smiled.

"You shouldn't have left the party," she scolded lightly.

Thorin's face split into a smile when he reached her. His cheeks were rosy from drink, but he didn't slur his words or sway where he stood. He looked cleaner than before, and she thought he must have also sought a bath before coming to find her.

"I wanted to see that you were alright," he said, wrapping her in his arms and pulling her close. "That man is an utter buffoon. How he became the master of this place, I'll never know."

Elwen laughed. That was an understatement if she'd ever heard one.

"You shouldn't miss out on the fun on my account," she said. "He's hardly the first man to say something idiotic in my presence, and it surely won't be the last."

"I would have thought the braid would let all know you are to be married." Thorin ran a finger over the strand of hair, his eyes sad. "The men of this land have all but forgotten us."

Elwen reached for his hand. "They will not forget again." She said it like a vow.

He smiled and shook his head as if to banish any lingering melancholy. "It is cold, and you are damp. Let's get you inside by the fire."

The pair found the room that had been designated for her and went inside. Elwen was grateful for the fire burning hot in the hearth. The days and nights grew ever colder as the first days of autumn drew near. _Tomorrow_ , she reminded herself. _Durin's Day is at hand_.

When the door clicked shut and the bolt slid in place, Elwen suddenly became very aware that she and Thorin were, for the first time, unattended. For the first time since their meeting, no one was going to walk in and interrupt.

They were completely alone. In her room. With a bed and a toasty fire. _Oh boy._

She did her best not to go stiff all over, but she felt herself begin to grow tense with nerves. Thorin, an ever observant dwarf, especially when it cames to her, looked at her seriously.

"Do you want me to go?"

There was no disappointment on his face, only concern for her comfort. He had no expectations, and it was that knowledge that made her smile and relax, even if only a fraction.

"Only if you want," she said honestly. "I feel badly that you're missing the feast, but I must admit…it's nice having you all to myself." She felt her cheeks grow hot at the admission.

"The last time I was able to hold you was inside a prison cell," Thorin laughed. "I would never pass on an opportunity for privacy. I think it shall be quite scarce very soon."

He steered her toward the fireplace. They sat on a soft, dark fur rug that Elwen thought must have come from a massive bear due to its size. The fire instantly began to chase the chill from her bones.

"This needs to be re-done," Thorin said, tugging on her braid lightly.

"I should think so," Elwen laughed and began to undo the snarled mess her braid had become. After getting lost in a creepy magical forest, wrapped up in a web by giant spiders, taken captive by King Cranky Pants, then chased down a river by a pack of orcs…well, yeah. It needed to be re-done.

"May I?" Thorin asked lowly, moving to her side for a better angle. She nodded shyly.

A dwarf male braiding his One's hair was such an intimate and special thing between couples; it wasn't until he was running his hands through her hair to untangle the knots that Elwen truly appreciated it. She relaxed under his ministrations, gazing at the cracking logs. The fire brought back memories of another fire she'd gazed upon some time back.

How long ago was it that Elwen had found herself in that bookshop with a strange old man seeing visions in the flame? Where was Gandalf now? She missed him, and wondered if she'd feel so conflicted now if he were still there to guide them.

"What are you thinking about?" Thorin asked. She couldn't believe such thick fingers could move so nimbly. She leaned into his warmth.

"Tomorrow," she replied, her voice quiet.

"You have nothing to fear, my love. Tomorrow we will find the door and retain the means to regain our homeland."

"It will be dangerous. If we wake that dragon-"

"We'll be careful," he assured her. "And it's worth the risk. I'll be able to give you a home, Elwen. A kingdom."

Thorin put a bead at the end of her braid when he was finished. She touched it, happy, and turned to her betrothed.

"I don't need a kingdom," she said, looking into eyes so blue she could drown. "I only need you. _You_ are my home, Thorin."

She reached out and laid a hand on his cheek. He leaned into her touch and turned his head to kiss the inside of her wrist. When they locked eyes once more, there was a heat in his eyes that had nothing to do with the fire. He ran a scorching, rough hand down the column of her neck and cupped the back of her head.

"I am so completely lost to you, Elwen Greenleaf," he said hoarsely. "I cannot lose you, nor will I be taken from you. I love you."

Elwen wasn't sure what to say, what she _could_ say to a declaration like that. She didn't have words to describe that she too was lost, had been from that evening on the bridge in Rivendell. _Maybe longer than even that._ She'd loved him even then, and wished they had more time before marching off to so much uncertainty. _But we have tonight._

She leaned forward, so close that their lips nearly touched, and whispered, "Show me."

The tension between them broke with a near audible _crack_. Thorin's lips found hers in a kiss both bruising and intoxicating. They moved together in a desperation she'd not thought possible. She opened to him, and she was completely submerged in his taste and touch and scent.

Elwen hadn't kissed many people, so she had next to nothing to compare it to, but she as absolutely certain that she was feeling things she'd never felt before. Her stomach was fluttering and noises were coming unbidden from her throat. She felt like she was going to come out of her skin. Her fingers moved of their own accord, slipping inside the front of his shirt till they found skin. He was hot to the touch, and he hissed when she laid a hand flat on his chest.

She wanted to be closer. She wanted to know the feeling of his skin on hers. A moan poured from her as he left a hot trail with his lips down her throat.

 _I need him_ , she thought, surprising herself. Elwen had never needed anyone, not in that way or anyway at all. It confused and frightened her, but also thrilled her in a way that was unexpected. _This is desire._ She found that desire was a raging inferno that just might burn her alive, and she'd let it. She'd never understood until that moment how easy it would be to become so lost in another's touch that time held no meaning. Nothing mattered outside that moment. Not a quest or a kingdom or a dragon. Nothing. There was only him. Only Thorin.

Elwen shivered when Thorin pushed her top to the side to kiss and nip her collarbone. His hands wormed their way up the back of her shirt and she leaned into his touch as he slid his hands up her back. His lips found hers again, and she felt him lift the hem of her shirt. She was about to help him remove it altogether when he suddenly froze.

Thorin tore his mouth away from hers, his breathing hard and ragged. He removed his hands quickly, but slid them around her tenderly once he was sure he could control himself. He leaned into her until their foreheads touched.

"Forgive me," he breathed.

Elwen started. "For what?"

He leaned back so he could look at her. His usual sapphire eyes had gone dark with want and she had to suppress the shiver snaking its way up her spine.

"I lost myself in the moment," he said, looking sheepish. "I nearly pushed too far."

Elwen smiled at him and cuddled further into his arms. "You don't need to apologize Thorin." She daringly planted a small kiss to the exposed skin of his chest and he jumped in surprised. She laughed. "I wouldn't have stopped you, just so you know."

Thorin looked god-smacked at this, and again she couldn't help but laugh.

"You remember me saying courting was different where I grew up," she reminded him. "Not everyone waits to…well, err, you know…" She felt her cheeks grow hot.

"Make love?" he said lowly, his eyes simmering.

Elwen bit her lip shyly and mentally scolded herself. _We're getting married for crying out loud!_ It would be ridiculous if they couldn't discuss sex openly and honestly.

"How do you feel about waiting until we are wed?" he asked, clearly thinking along the same lines as she. "You said you've never been with anyone, but not how you felt about it."

Elwen tapped her chin thoughtfully. "I've not thought much about it, if I'm honest," she replied. "My life up to this point has been about survival, not romance. I certainly never dreamed I'd find myself engaged at twenty!"

"Twenty-five," Thorin corrected her teasingly, then laughed when she swatted at him. The comment brought something to the forefront of her mind, though. Something she probably should have asked before, you know, agreeing to marry him.

"Thorin," she said slowly. Judging by the amusement dancing on his face, He'd guessed her thoughts. "Are you terribly much older than Fili and Kili?"

Thorin chuckled deeply, much to her annoyance. "I wouldn't use the word _terribly_ , but I am their mother's older brother."

Elwen pulled a face. "How much older?" she demanded. "You don't look a day over forty."

"Does it matter?" he asked, dropping a kiss to her forehead. "Dwarves aren't immortal, but we do live very long natural lives. And you are elf-kind. We will have a long, happy life together."

His words were sweet and true, but he was a fool if he thought that would dissuade her.

"How old are you?" Her tone brokered no room for argument. Thorin sighed, knowing defeat when he saw it.

"I will be one hundred and fifty come summer."

Elwen's jaw dropped with an audible pop. Thorin frowned.

"I did not think the difference in our years would be a problem, dear one." He sounded worried, but Elwen couldn't help it. One hundred and fifty bloody years old!? How on earth…

Where Elwen was from, twenty-five and forty was an age difference people would look upon and frown. But she didn't know how to explain those kinds of social constructs to a being who might live to be well over two hundred. She understood rationally that none of that mattered. They were in Middle-earth now and clearly no one gave a damn about age here.

"Wait a second," she said as another thought struck her. "Do all dwarves save themselves for their wedding night? That's hard for me to believe considering you said yourself many dwarf males never find their One."

Thorin winced. Clearly this wasn't something he thought she'd bring up. She pointed at him accusingly.

"I knew it!" she exclaimed. "Gloin is the only married fellow out of you lot, but I knew you couldn't all be virgins!"

"It isn't openly discussed," Thorin muttered, "but there are those who seek physical companionship elsewhere when it's available. Some dwarf women who reject marriage aren't opposed to…well…But we were speaking of tradition. Once a man is passed the usual age of marriage and has not found his one…" Thorin shrugged.

"You mean like you?" Elwen's eyes narrowed. Thorin winced again.

"I never expected to marry, Elwen," he explained. "Once Fili was born, I had an heir. The idea that my One existed for me felt impossible. It never bothered me; it was something I accepted when I came of age and found that no one inspired such sentiment in me." He implored her to understand. "After the dragon came, and we began to wander, we took work wherever we could find it. There were times when curious women approached me and-"

"I don't need details, Thorin."

She sounded harsher than she meant to and felt badly when Thorin hung his head. She wasn't sure where the anger or jealousy was coming from. He as over a century years old, for goodness sake. It wasn't fair for her to act like he'd done something wrong when he hadn't, and she told him as much. He touched her cheek gently and turned her head up to meet his gaze.

"If I had known you were anywhere out there in the world, that I would someday find you and be able to call you mine…" Thorin leaned forward until their foreheads touched. "Elwen, I would have waited an age more for you. I would never have touched another, none could have entice me, for it would have been a betrayal of my heart."

Elwen looked at him. His eyes were clear, open, and honest; she believed he spoke true. Thorin hadn't thought he'd ever find his One and had resigned himself to being alone like so many others did.

 _But Kili hasn't_ , she thought, the realization startling. He hasn't resigned himself to never finding his One…because he already had. He'd made it no secret that he loved her, but had never claimed aloud that he thought she was his soulmate. Or had he? _Though I've known you for what seems like so few days, my soul has known yours my entire life,_ he'd said.

 _Maybe I was the reason Kili had wanted to see the world. He was looking for me, even when he didn't realize it._

But Thorin had, in a way, found her first. It didn't seem fair. It _wasn't_. Thorin had resigned himself to being alone, but Kili never would. She knew dwarves too well to hope he would ever find someone else. That's not how their hearts worked.

Elwen leaned in and pressed her lips to Thorin's, banishing thoughts of things she couldn't change.

"I love you," she whispered, because it was true.

"And I love you," he replied.

They once again became lost in the taste of tongues and feel of skin. He kissed her so thoroughly she forgot everything that had ever plagued her mind. For a precious few moments, they were no one. Not a king and a princess, dwarf and elf or human. They were two people tangled together, dipped in the shadows dancing across the room from the low burning fire.

They were no one, but together, they were everything. Tomorrow they would go back to their duties and dangers. _Tomorrow I'll face Kili's broken heart, my pissed off uncle, and dragon fire. But not tonight._

Elwen shivered against the cool air when Thorin eased the shirt over her head. His soon followed, and they both gasped when they came skin to skin.

This wasn't where Elwen thought the night would lead, and she wasn't entire sure it's where it should lead. She was terrified of what the morning would bring. Though she had no experience in these matters, she was pretty sure making love because you were scared you might die wasn't a very good reason. _But we might die. I don't want to die without having known his touch._

If there were to be regrets, she would face them with the dawn.

When her hands found his breeches and she began to work them open, his hands stilled her work.

"Are you sure, Elwen?" he asked. "This isn't something you can take back once it's done."

His voice sounded regretful, as if he were sorry for nothing having anything to give in return. Her modern sensibilities told her that was rubbish, and the idea of ones virginity having anything to do with someone's worth was barbaric. Plus, Thorin had given Elwen something far more valuable.

 _I have what no other will ever have,_ she thought. _For I have the heart of the King Under the Mountain._

"Yes," she breathed. "I want this. Do you?"

Thorin removed his hands and ran a finger down the soft skin of her neck.

"Yes," he said, his voice gravel and smoke.

Inch by inch they shed their clothes and breath by breath they explored the plains and valleys of their skin. She felt his muscles jump beneath her lips as she dragged them down his chest and stomach. She sighed as the heat of his tongue found uncharted territories.

Finally, his face hovered above hers. Once again, they asked. Once again, the answer was yes.

* * *

Elwen knew he couldn't stay, and that it pained him to leave her side, so she didn't show her sadness as she watched Thorin slowly dress.

"If you keep looking at me that way, I'll never be able to leave," he said roughly, noticing the way her eyes traveled the length of him. Thank the powers that be for dwarf princes who worked in forges. She wanted to run her hands over the muscles of his chest and stomach, but she only snuggled deeper into the covers.

The fire burned bright after Thorin built it back up, but it was still cold without him. After he was fully dressed, he sat on the edge of the bed.

"I do not wish to go," he said, touching her bare shoulder.

"I know, but you should," she said, grinning slyly. "Besides, once we're married, I'll have you in my bed every single night."

He leaned in and kissed her slowly. " _Our_ bed," he said.

Even though they were betrothed, it would be seen as improper for them to be alone together as they were. He did not want to give the master a reason to fuss, nor did he want word of it to get back to her uncle. There was hope he would forgive her in time, and Thorin wanted their relationship to be as easy as it possibly could.

They kissed goodbye, keeping it chaste lest they tempt fate.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you," she replied, and the door clicked shut behind him.

* * *

Thorin regretted leaving her side as soon as the door latched behind him. His arms already felt empty without her in them, his body far too cold. They had already flouted tradition, what could sleeping by her side matter now?

 _Soon_ , he thought.

Tomorrow they would retrieve the Arkenstone and the dwarves would rally to their king. Once the mountain was once again home, he would marry Elwen and together they would rebuild Erebor. They would never again need to be apart.

There was a part of Thorin that wished he could give Elwen a proper courtship. Normally betrothed couples were so well chaperoned that they were rarely allowed more than a few stolen moments alone together.

He recalled his own sister being taken to task by their father for sneaking around with Vili before they were wed. As her brother, perhaps he should have been more concerned about Dis' honor, but there was no point. Dis never did anything she damn well didn't want to do, and was tough as a bear besides. He wondered what his sister would think of Elwen. Their meeting would probably be something like two storms colliding. _And I'll be quite outnumbered when that day comes_. The thought wasn't unpleasant, if a bit chilling.

Thorin was thinking about this as he went in search of a room to sleep in. When he turned a corner, he caught sight of Kili limping his way down the hallway. Thorin frowned. His youngest nephew was pale, more so than he had been only a few hours before. His brow was creased with pain, and gone was his usual cheerful demeanor.

Thorin thought about the way Kili had stared at the braid in Elwen's hair, as if his entire world had been set ablaze and nothing but ash remained. Thorin was certain he hadn't seen his nephew truly smile since that moment.

 _And I am the cause of that pain._

Kili lifted his eyes, startled to see Thorin.

"Oh," he said. "I was coming to find Elwen. I wanted to make sure she wasn't hungry. She barely at anything at table."

Thorin saw the small parcel in hand, no doubt food. He'd brought Elwen a midnight snack. Thorin mentally kicked himself; he should have thought of that.

"I just left her," he said. "She should be sleeping now."

He wished he could take the words back as soon as he said them. It only took Kili seconds to size him up. Sharp eyes took in Thorin's untucked rumpled shirt and wild hair, and damn him for no lacing his breeches all the way.

Thorin didn't think Kili could go any paler until he did. His face flashed between fury and grief before finally settling into an emptiness that could only be described as heartbreak.

Kili spun around and lurched back down the hallway, hissing in pain as he pushed his injured leg too far. Thorin grabbed his arm only to have it jerked from his grasp, but he paused. He kept his eyes forward and Thorin felt his heart seize.

This was Kili, _his_ Kili. The little boy he had given archery lessons and told stories and rocked to sleep after a nightmare. Fili and Kili meant more to him than they could possibly understand. _Now Kili won't even look at me._

"Tell me how to fix this," Thorin pleaded. "How can I help?" He could have been talking about the leg, and even though they both knew that wasn't true, it was easier to pretend.

"This isn't like the time I fell out of a tree and got banged up," Kili said, voice barely above a whisper. "I think this is beyond even you to fix."

Thorin was struck dumb. Kili was right; this was not a hurt he could soothe as if Kili were still a lad. He stood before his uncle now nearly of age. A man, by human standards. A man in love with a woman he could not have, who had not chosen him in return. It was possible there was someone still out there. Perhaps Kili would yet find his One. That's what Thorin told himself because the alternative…it was too much to bare. No, Kili was young, too young. He would find someone someday. But saying so out loud would do no one any good, and Kili would resent it. So Thorin cleared his throat and looked at his nephew sternly.

"Well, I can still help you to your room. I'll hear no argument from you," he snapped when Kili began to protest. Softer, he added, "You're right. This isn't a skinned knee or a cat scratch, and you're too big to hold. Let me do what I can, at least."

Kili's face crumbled for just a moment, and both had to look away. _At least he still loves me_ , Thorin thought. Tears meant there was hope.

Kili didn't reply, simply reached out an arm and let Thorin support his weight. They walked slowly and quietly until Kili paused in front of a door. He reached or the handle and paused.

"Thorin?" he said quietly, looking over his shoulder. "Be good to her. Love her, and don't hurt her."

Thorin heard the plea as well as the warning.

"The only thing I want is her happiness," Thorin replied.

"Then we want the same thing. Good night, and thank you, Uncle." Kili went inside and shut the door. Thorin shook his head. There was nothing left to say or do besides seek his own bed as well.

* * *

Thorin did not often dream. A life of hard labor and leadership often exhausted him so thoroughly that when he slept, it was deep and dark. But on the night before he went to the mountain, Thorin Oakenshield dreamed, and he dreamed of her.

He saw himself with a crown upon his head. He had taken his rightful place as King Under the Mountain. Placed above him, set within the throne, was the Arkenstone. The King's Jewel.

Yet even the Arkenstone paled in comparison to his queen.

Elwen, dressed in white silk, wore a circlet of simple silver set with jewels of starlight. She smiled at him, a toothy grin full of delight and mischief. His queen, his wife. His One. He had everything he'd ever longed for and all he thought he would never have.

As she gazed at him, the brilliance of her smile began to dim. A look crossed her face that he barely recognized, for it was not an expression often seen on Elwen Greenleaf. Fear. Pure terror rippled across her features.

Thorin looked about frantically, searching for the cause, rushing to her defense. But they were alone. When he reached for her, she recoiled as if he were poison.

 _It's me_ , he realized. _I am what she fears._

Elwen's bright eyes were wide as plates, and when she opened her mouth, a terrorized cry pierced the quiet, echoing off rock and stone. He tried to reach for her again and froze, gazing at his hands. What he saw did not belong to him. Claws, long and sharper than dwarf forged steel. Thorin recoiled and opened his mouth to tell her not to be scared, that it was only he who loved her, but his voice was also not his own.

A roar so familiar, so deafening, filled the hall and drowned out his wife's frightened screams. And with the roar came fire.

Flames rained down upon Elwen until cries of fear turned to agony, and soon, silence.

Her cowering form crumbled until his wife was nothing but a pile of ash and melted starlight.

Thorin awoke. He bolted upright, using his forearm to smother the cry bubbling up his throat. Balin and Dwalin snored from their beds undisturbed.

Thorin did not sleep again. He sat up watching the flames in the hearth, trying and failing to banish the sight of Elwen scrambling away from him. No matter how he tried, right up until the room began to lighten with the coming dawn, visions of his love set ablaze danced before his eyes and in his mind, the echoes of her dying wail.

* * *

Elwen skittered out of bed once Thorin was gone, bare feet padding across the room as she slid the bolt into place. She stood in front of the fire, thankful for its warmth. The dwarves had been right; it would be difficult to adjust to the cold of the mountain. Perhaps Kili will have to roll me to the throne room after all.

She sighed. She didn't want to think about Kili, not now. It would only cause pain and confusion, and that wasn't what she wanted to think about right after then night she'd just had.

She stretched as she slipped into her clothes one layer at a time, wishing there could be time to wash them. _Guess a dunk in Bard's toilet will have to do._

She found that she was sore in a way she hadn't expected and knew it would be worse by morning. Already a deep ache was forming in her center, but she smiled despite it all. Elwen had never known love before, not truly. Never known what it was like to have someone grip you mind, body, and soul. They'd come together in such a way that to ignore fate's hand in the matter would be foolish.

 _It's why I'm here,_ she thought as she knelt in front of the hearth. The love she felt for the dwarves, for Thorin, Kili, and Fili, it would save their lives. It had to, because a world without them was no world she cared to live in.

Elwen blinked, her eyes tired. She knew rest was needed. There was no way to know what the morrow would bring. But before she could turn from the leaping flames, she felt that familiar tug, a falling away of the world.

 _The walls melted and Elwen found herself standing on one of the docks outside. She gasped, her breath mist on the air._

 _And then she heard it. An unearthly roar split the air and made Elwen's blood turn to ice._

" _The dragon!" someone shouted._

 _Suddenly, the world was full of screams and people running frantically. But she didn't know where they were going to go. They were trapped out in the middle of a freezing lake._

 _The first burst of fire hit the town in an explosion. Wood splintered and burst into flames as the dragon Smaug rained down burning death upon the people. The air shimmered with heat and steam and the moans of the injured and dying were almost too much to bare. Agony and fear so profound Elwen could taste it on the wind._

 _She spun around, desperately looking for an escape and finding none. As far as she could see, the entire world was ablaze._

 _The planks beneath her feet shook as the dragon roared, each beat of his mighty wings a thunderclap. She turned to run the other way, but the wood beneath her feet trembled so violently that she lost her footing. She felt the blaze on her back as she tipped forward into the icy depths of the lake and…_

Elwen found herself on her hands and knees, panting, fingers digging into the fur rug beneath her trembling form. She forced herself to breath deep and even to quell the rising nausea, willing the shaking to stop.

She pushed herself away from the fire and found her staggering way to the bed. She wasn't sure how long it took for sleep to pull her under into the dark. But even in her dreams, the world burned. _Trees like torches blazed with light…_

* * *

 **Authors Note:**

 **Hello everyone! I hope you're all doing well! Once more, I must apologize for a late posting. I've found these last few months entirely too busy for much of anything besides work and occasional sleep.**

 **I hope you all enjoy the chapter! I know it's a little meandering, but I felt like the company deserved a break, and I wanted to show some progress in some of our relationships if you know what I'm saying haha!**

 **I'm sorry to say I more than likely won't be posting chapter 28 until probably August unless something insane happens. I'm working on my own original piece of fiction and have a self-imposed deadline of July, so I'll be using all of my spare time to complete this. But no worries, after I'm done with that I'll probably be so sick of it that I'll want to do nothing else but work on this story! My aim would be to completely finish this story by years end, but I don't want to make promises. It's a goal, though!**

 **Thank you to all the new favorites and follows! I still can't believe so many of you have read and enjoyed this little story of mine. It means more than you know! And please please please review, I love hearing from you all! It makes my day every time.**

 **Elvenrose22: Here is mooooorrrreeeee!**

 **Tesw0505: Thank you so much, and I apologize for the delay! I hope you'll stick with me while I finish up what I need to do before I can write chapter 28. Hope this tides you over!**

 **Silverhawk88: Thank you so much! I enjoy writing Elwen's character so much. I dream of reaching her level of sass someday! And yes, I think Thranduil will indeed be surprising a few folks in the chapters ahead! Stay tuned!**

 **Alright everyone, once again thank you so much for your enduring patience and please stay with me while I work hard to bring you the best content I can!**

 **Cheers,**

 **L**


End file.
